By midday even the sun is
brightly drinking from the creek. Nearby,
passing work trucks slow to a crawl and claw around the corner of the county
road. Dust from the trucks rises only a
little before sieving through the shade trees like ghostly scarves.
At the deepest hole in
the creek, not far away, children count: “One…two…three…JUMP!”
In a splash, they find
the water painfully cold and good.
They prance back out of
the creek as quickly as they jumped in.
Another truck rolls by.
The children jump in.
--Mitchell
Hegman
Love the prose
ReplyDeleteThanks. I love summer!
ReplyDelete