When I loved
I jumped out
of the car to pee
where we pulled over on Highway 17 
on our way to Santa Cruz.

I breathed in
the fresh wet ferns
and dripping redwood trees
that formed a winter canopy over the side of the road.

She came up behind
me and wrapped her arms
around me and grabbed me firmly
and commanded, “Let go! I want to do it.”

She waved me in wild wintry patterns
at the orange, brown and red 
dampened leaf fall,
the litter of redwood limbs already wet from the rain.