Through tangled brush
We make our way
To the creek bed
Cooling summer feet
With gossamer wings
Skitter up the bank,
Fanning honeysuckle vines.
Suddenly, a head shoots
A crawdad staking claim to his territory -
As if little girls pose a threat.
Later, on a picnic cloth
They arrange their treasures,
A speckled feather, an odd shaped
Rock, a golden leaf.
Unlike their “find,” my treasures
Are images - images of two giggling girls
Ready to Embrace the world -Ready EVEN to walk on water.