On a wide limestone rock in a small clearing
we sat and split a pack of peanut butter crackers.
This would be the place we’d build our house,
raise our only child.
Years later, our son grown, we’d part,
my husband to other beds, and I
to a city I would come to love.
That afternoon we must have believed nothing
could finish us.
Watching a line of ants carry away
every crumb, we lingered there so long
the woods darkened. We could barely see
to make our way out.
— from Juniper Volume 6, Issue 2