My Safe Place

Down a dusty gravel road, creeping at a turtle pace…

An old wooden bridge crossed over this place

Our Sunday hangout to escape the rat race.

Rusty brown colored stones in water knee-deep

Felt smooth as glass under my feet.

Carefree and lax  as a child I could play

Without any worry of being the prey.

Trees created cover, yet the sun could peep through

As I chased little fish that had a golden hue.

Watching for snakes, pick a berry from a vine

The emotions flow out like a churning turbine.

Sometimes we forget the world that we had

Lock it away, the good and the bad.

Time ticks by slowly, dreams neatly stowed away

The hope to be free and frolic again someday.

From the eyes of the child once mild and meek

To an adult whose life sometimes feels bleak…

Lives the magical memory of one Brownsville Creek.




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