I pulled to the side of highway B and walked to the center of the bridge that spanned Wakenda creek. I stared in disbelief at my childhood playground. I spent countless hours here hunting, fishing, throwing smoke bombs at passing cars, fighting make believe wars, exploring life and learning about love. Now just an impersonal ditch cut through unrecognizable farmland. Gone are the grain elevators that in my childhood seemed to touch the clouds in the sky. No more houses with white siding and green shingled roofs. No childhood home, no trees, no life… Nothing left except the tears in my eyes.

time must move forward—
leaving only memories 
to fill up my heart