Dog Island
Summer days, a sheltered cove
I close my eyes....and I'm back again..
This hideaway, where oft we came
That bears our names, on giant oaks
Carved long ago by childish hands.
A place that takes me to my yesterdays
Where willow trees hung low,
Over river wild, and thorny berry branches
Would prick our legs, where I could
Descend to the water, to look for
Frogs, and fish, and where a hot summer
Sun, would find it's way through the branches
And warm our backs, till slippery wet with drips...
Remembering, it's my eyes that mist...
Longing for days
When my legs were young, tan, and strong
When I could run up and down the trails
Finding other coves and hiding places
And old tires tied with rope hanging and waiting
For our young hands to hold tight
And swing high and wide over the water
Feeling the shock of the cold and the wonder
Of a long ago summer day
Today, back up the steep bank...I tread carefully
Older legs, more carefully I step....
But thankful to revisit a yesterday
This happy place, on another lovely, summer day
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