Childhood
The joy of childhood and an old river are
a perfect match whose memories have come and
gone like a wisp of smoke. The laughter of
running through cornfields toward a destination
is clear and honest to those that can still hear.
Rapturous love of the moment that can never
be shared lest the dream will disappear as quietly as time.
Four little boys with eternity in their pockets
and fresh from the night's dreams hasten
their step toward adventure and the ghosts
of those before them...to be free and open
to wondrous things that go bump in the
night..to see with their eyes the wonderment
of life and not to dwell to long on yesterday.
The river awaits them with pirate rafts, Grand
Cooley Dams, and lazying about doing absolutely
nothing...blond hair and freckles and perfectly
naked they plunge in the cool water and drift
down with the current knowing around each
bend is unforeseen glories of conquest and
fears to be overcome while diving to the bottom to hide.
A small fire riverside, an old fry pan fresh with
fish becomes ambrosia to these little gods of
life as they feast and talk of future endeavors
which change by the minute for their future is
but minutes away....to be there again, to caress
the tenderness of youth and be them again
forever...little boys and a magical river.
(Images Source: illustrationsource.com)