What We Believed

Down the prickly cow path to the creek we journeyed as if we were insects making our way along scars in the hide of a buffalo whose fur brushed us when the wind passed like a tide across the high grasses down the prickly cow path to the creek in chigger-shade where thoughts of time making our way along scars lost what they meant up at the house when the wind passed like a tide across the high grasses we pulled from our pockets matches swiped in chigger-shade where thoughts of time tasting of sulfur at the tips lost what they meant up at the house listening to bug-hum and bird-chatter and watching bubbles we pulled from our pockets matches swiped the surface of the water trembling tasting of sulfur at the tips once by the creek we found rocks with shells in them listening to bug-hum and bird-chatter and watching bubbles then carried the rocks back for Uncle Ralph to examine the surface of the water trembling the prairie had been a giant sea he told us once by the creek we found rocks with shells in them Grandma June says everything was sky not sea I said then carried the rocks back for Uncle Ralph to examine none of us sure what we believed the prairie had been a giant sea he told us we journeyed as if we were insects Grandma June says everything was sky not sea I said in the hide of a buffalo whose fur brushed us none of us sure what we believed