The Creek
I remember a much simpler time,
when the world was round and so innocent.
There was a country store; a narrow creek,
an old cable hung from a metal bridge.
The launching point from which people would swing,
a semi flat rock on the muddy bank.
For an extra thrill, one could climb the bridge,
a dare and a step into the midair.
Rushing air, a great splash, and the bottom,
once to the surface, proving your courage.
Occasionally all would abandon,
when a lazy old snake would swim along.
This gave chance for sharing time and a joke,
a soda, potato chips, and moon pie.
Dripping wet cut-off shorts and the warm sun,
innocent minds, so far not corrupted.
No one thought of what the future would bring,
the poor lived from day to day happily
We earned our pay from driving a tractor,
hauling hay and digging fence posts all day.
Upon returning home to family,
we ate home cooking and slept untroubled.
Yes, I remember a simpler time.
The creek, friends, family, and innocence
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