Upon the rocks of Chester Creek

I am made of a man
I know nothing about

a man I barely recall
from when I was three.

no letters, no pictures
nothing, but
the memories of young hippies

in their time of love, peace
and civil fights.

they remember his smarts,
the curls upon his head
and the laughter he brought.

I remember, nothing
until the night I gifted myself
a memory/a keepsake
of the man I look so much like.

I dreamed we watched
water tumble
the rocks of Chester Creek,

side by side
we stood as the warmth
left his fading shadow
marking our time done,
a lifetime lost forever.

©River 2013

written for prompt
Free Write Friday 3/22

care for a reading


18 thoughts on “Upon the rocks of Chester Creek

  1. Oh my GOD! You are amazing. I cannot wait to have you on next Friday! Stunning work… ♥

    You better write for me again soon! That’s an order lol! I love your writing and I will make it a point to get by here often. Looking forward to next week. xox

  2. So beautiful River. I always think that those who are that close to us are not lost in death; but we merely have to gaze deep within our own spirits to discover all that was the essence of that person residing there commingled with what we have become in our lives. I think you did that and found a mirror.

    1. This is one of the beauties of poetry. Every reader is free to interpret from their view. I see how you feel death with the loss of someone. I write of a father I never knew and will never know. The power of the mind and its gifts of memory. 🙂

  3. Again you put together such beautiful thoughts. I’m envious, but then I’m just a word bender, not a poet. You inspire and I hope we continue to see your posts.

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