A poem beginning with a line by Pablo Neruda and ending with a line by John Koether by Connor Deeks

I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
Although that would be one way to love,
I do love you as if you were something simpler, a grain of sand,
Although is that more pure than salt?

We have lived trhough our own roadtrip of life,
that brisk day at the Oregon Coast,
Where you ran into hte ocean, naked,
Returning to my warm embrace and the flannel blanket, salty.

That weekend we drove to Mt. McKinley, longest decision we've ever made,
The car broke down in Canada, and Alaska,
And we camped off the side of the road,
Just us and the flannel blanket and the salt melting the snow beneath our tent.

And all the intricate years between.