I Remember Earth

I remember the crash of waves against the shore
and the clattery scramble of pebbles desperate to avoid their clutches.
The rush of a bats wing past your ear,
and the glimpse of it against the fading dusk.
The scent of turned soil, a breath of mint and the
ant’s eggs like golden treasures under a warm stone.
I remember setting a bonfire to light the darkness,
the flames dancing and the wood crackling
and the smell of roast potatoes
and the tang of the first snowflake of winter.