If Memory Serves - June 21, 2021

a mid-summer’s day I’m 8 years old

brookside on my knees under a willow

the tiny stream gurgles almost

as happily as me my hand slips

in and scours one deep hole’s secrets

crayfish frogs baby sunfish

tadpoles that flee my shadow still

get netted by my imagination and some

in my hand their black wiggle

tickles in a hopeless sort of way

a blue dragonfly decorates

a small patch of wild grass

drizzled by the late afternoon sun

I start to dam the water’s

destiny but fail flow it must

I didn’t know what a poet’s lunch

this scene was back then though I did

devour the moments and savor the memory

just glad I finally went back

to leave a tip