Like old Cobb Creek, we each drifted away... only to wander back now and then through colorful, but often fragmented childhood memories. Sixty years since... I am wandering deeper into the blue waters that cover my memory, to understand how those innocent days came to an end, to understand my grandparents' loss in nineteen fifty-seven, and the anguish rarely spoken of.... yet without any doubt, profoundly felt.
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Poetry