CASTOR CREEK

Sand
As white
As cotton in full bloom,
Bleached by the southern sun,
Kissed by a Harvest Moon.
Mile-long dunes,
Along the creeks way
Contained tightly by banks
Of red, hardened clay.
A landscape
Filled with history
And
Stories from the past,
Ghost-like sounds ending in a splash!
Rusty remnants of an old water tank,
Used by the steam engines of the T &G,
Filling their bellies from the silver spout,
Vapor clouds of steam "hissing" out!
Children curiously watch,
Eager to return to the white-wall tire
That swings slowly
Over the creek's surface, higher and higher!
An endeavor of daring feat,
Not attempted by the frail or the meek,
To bravely drop into the warm,
Spring-fed waters
Of
Old Castor Creek

By Reggie Anne Walker-Wyatt, c. 1998