Conquering The Old Creek - Poem by Walterrean Salley
The old creek, with little more than
A trickle of a flow,
Ran along the base of the bridge—
Slightly winding as it went.
It joins the countless places
That foster childhood memories.
There, down a hill, we caught
Minnows, tadpoles, crayfish and turtles.
We had to cross the creek
To get to Granny's house.
And sometimes, I, a little child,
Was timid and so afraid.
But there was always one older
To encourage and guide along—
Until the day came
When I was no longer afraid.
Then I could cross alone,
For I had conquered the old creek.
© 2009 W.S.
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