Every toss—
      a gentle arc,
      riding the wind,
      your laugh carving between trees,

      landing softly.

When a disc fades into shadow,
     I see your smile hidden in the leaves,
                                   playful—
     teasing me to chase, inviting me deeper.

Each muddy step whispers your name,
     my shoes squelching syllables—
     Mari…
     Mari…

     the rhythm steady, quiet as my breath.

Even the creek hums your song,
     water moving sure and gentle,
     carrying thoughts of you downstream,

     ripples catching sun the way your eyes catch light—

Every throw,
      lost disc,
      small victory,

      your presence woven in the very roots beneath me.

This game?
     Just an excuse—
     a way to spend time thinking of you,

     waiting on the moment when distance collapses again.

Until then,
      I’ll keep playing through—
            you in every flight,
                         fade,

                   every perfect landing.