When we were young,

We swam in the beaver dam

And plucked the leaches from each other’s backs.

You were fearless

And knew how to do things –

Like churning ice cream,

Birthing kittens,

And making tomato sandwiches.

The coyotes at night didn’t frighten you at all.

You were the leader

And I would gladly follow

As we marched through fields of wheat,

Down dusty dirt roads,

Because we wanted to go to Grandma’s house

And you knew the way.

We played in the grain bins and hay lofts,

And explored the old farmhouse,

Searching for forgotten treasures

As it slowly sank into the earth.

And when we were thrown

From Uncle Hank’s horse

You got back on, while I…

I was too afraid.



*Poem first appeared in “Canadian Stories” Magazine, Volume 21, No. 123, Year 2018