I know where they went those decades ago.
Chasing fairies in the swamps that hide among the cypress knees
where the brown water flows meandering through forgotten trees. 

The science books of our youth portrayed dinosaurs as long lost animations
we knew that was a fantasy story rife with limitations.

They had only taken another shape in the form of alligators, lizards and armadillos
the beasts could be seen daily between the ferns and palmettos. 

Sprites dance just out of sight and glide away gracefully as we come near splashing through the cypress stained currents ever so clear. 

The trolls could never outrun us because of their size
they hide in plain sight being masters of disguise. 

I knew where the children went on those hot summer days
they made up games and swam and ran in their own way. 

They made toys with sticks and string,
made up words of songs to sing,
raced for no prize or thing,
pretended they were kings. 

Motivated by the earned knowledge of never saying, I have nothing to do while mildly complaining.