That shallow stream we once knew is now the victim of late unused.
Its once glimmering waters held childhood joys and life abound.
The bottom full of sand and mud, became victim to the sun dried dust.
Once gleaming sprouting green, surrounded its banks as high as knees.
Then Mother Nature swallowed her whole, leaving nothing behind to serve or please.
Now one’s feet shall wade no more, with no water to quench deer and boar.
So when one comes back to see the place where fish swam and jumped,
finds only sorrow instead of glee.
In joyous thoughts of yesteryear, memories hold tight to what was dear.
Like gazing in an ageless mirror, a withered stream can be no more.