By J. Parrish Lewis
remember when we muddied
our elbows and knees, crawling
through the creek? we kept
our eyes trained
for the enemy. we built
forts above and below
and sometimes in between
we saw eyes staring
out of sewers and imagined monsters
it was probably only imagination
because imagination
plays and plays
it crawls
through the water. it sleds
down the snow-covered hill
it flies when you fly
but flees when
your leg breaks
until you are lying there staring
up at the sky and up at the trees
and a little black angel comes
that you’ve never seen before and
never will see
now you walk those paths again
there by the creek
and it isn’t
ever the same
only drifting memories
