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,
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