I Want To Ride My Water Cycle Poem by Jay L. Morris

Days of my youth gone on several levels. I kept my memories vivid of small lakes created by the construction of I65 in Alabama. The weeds grew quickly and the sounds of the frogs and the crickets still ring in my ears. And a small boy can find beauty in wild flowers and multi-colored, shimmering dragonfly wings. No parent could let their small child wander off like I did back then-would they?