So Many Places

So many creases, you don’t know

where the river bends, but I do,

I was born here a long time ago

on the banks I swatted mosquitoes

and cried from hunger when the sun went down.

I have seen the cotton mouths

and the cypress knees.

Follow me, we will get there

and have fish over an open fire for supper,

we will catch all the bream you would care for

before the shadows overtake the bank.

In the low sandy shallows

and on the nearby dry bed we will catch them

and grill them on a stick and you will swear

 you have never eaten better,

and I will know your words are true.