Most of my childhood was spent
right here on these creek banks
gathering rocks and sifting sand.
Thirty years ago, the trees didn’t loom
overhead casting shadows across deep
still water like they do now.
They were seedlings,
the water shallow, moving fast,
a sandbar curved in just the right place
to pass hours with my neighbors in
make believe worlds we built together
working hard in our play.
I listen to the mocking bird try out
different songs as fish dart across
spots of shade in and out of sun,
my kids observing turtle eggs and
crawdads and dragonflies
each of us quiet in our awe.
I soak in this stillness,
let the slow current carry me
back in time
back to those days
neither of us were so grownup.