My Magical Place
I look down at my hands
dripping with water
a green film from algae
stumbling
as I gather rocks in my shirt.
My young hands
fail to understand
the complexity
of it all.
Dad 20 meters away
puffing away on tobacco
driving a pole into
the water.
My dreams of being big;
helping dad and sis
are just a few years away.
For now I'll keep my chubby
legs and arms submerged
catching frogs
collecting rocks.
Our golden retriever
bathes in the shade
a hole dug just for her
biting at bees as they pass.
This place felt like a dream
the "money tree" we knew existed
coins on the ground to prove
so unique
Mom hung kettles from the trees.
The bench where I learned to fish
peeling with white paint
nails falling out
always loved that Mickey Mouse pole.
Our fort in the forest
to protect us from bears
sis always laid the large sticks
as I gathered the small.
Our fortress to the outside world
our secrets and dreams held tight
peering through the light holes
our lives just beginning.
Across Hanging Kettle Lake
lay a peacock farm
a musty smell of dew in the morning
you can hear the mothers calling.
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