shall we talk?

Shall we talk about love on cotton clouds
On beds of pines that softly press below the feet
And shall we talk about the day we split
As branches pare from steadfast trunks
That dug their roots so many years ago
We’ll always walk like ghostly prints
Left behind in forests where the children run
We wish we’d made more effort to
Make permanent the words we spoke
Things we did, the skin we touched
But that’s as far as we can dream
On rainy afternoons we live like these.