There used to be a hammock
In a great expanse of green lawn
Beyond the house and next to another
Near the edge, the stairs leading down to a dock
Stairs decaying
The same stairs that had always been there
Since I was a child
I lay on the hammock
Letting the net of rope hold my child self
The water beyond is glittering
Hypnotizing my eyes
And I’m wild with awe
This moment perfect in its simplicity
I’m reminded of the house across the lawn
As I lay swinging, cradled
On the edge of history
My history
I do not know this now
For I am young
I have not yet pondered
The end of this
That hammock is gone now
It only exists in these words
And in the sad song of my memories
The imagination of my past
Sitting idly as it always did
On the edge of Morse Lake
That hammock was bulldozed away
Several years ago
In an empty moment of fate
Destroyed by the necessity of time
And the anxiousness of progress
The only evidence of my hammock’s existence
Is two holes deep in the ground
Holes that held my hammock strong
Holes that held me in comfort
When I was young
As I was as a child
I think of my hammock often
As a thing that once was
And that is never to be again
Like the sun of yesterday, May the fifteenth
Or the breath I took
Just now
But me being myself
I don’t let these things disappear
I don’t let them leave my memories
Because I have that power
To hold things as my own
And to keep them forever
I’m existing in a constant summer
On Morse Lake
Celebrating the Fourth of July
Living it up in a hammock
Of long ago
