The Elkhorn

[krhhrk]

In Kentucky, through the hills
rolls a bending, twisting creek.
Almost a river- it was there
Where he first kissed my cheek.
I'd spend all weekend there
and I would swim and dive or row.
But now, only a few months later,
I forbid myself to go.
I do so love the place of peace,
and I don't mind rocks or snakes.
But I do fear, with one bad splash,
these cool memories would wake.
Of summertime, and new found love-
our first date by the shore.
I could not stand it if my soul
should want his touch once more.
We fished there, where the beach turns brown
thick with Kentucky clay.
And once, a canoe tipped over there-
our cargo washed away.
I remember how I laughed aloud
when that cat fish stole his hook
and on that covered bridge, i cried
he held me as I shook.
The season changed, and like all things
that summer came to pass.
We visited that place no more
and love did breathe its last.
Though diving into love was fun
just treading was too hard.
The current came, we could not float,
the rocks left both hearts scarred.
So with those feelings, I must leave
and let this creek-love die.
So maybe next time, rather than tread,
I may learn to fly.