Muddy Water…
Down a rutted country road from my
childhood home five miles or so, the
muddy Flint Creek flowed south
unhurriedly slow.
I could not have been over five or six,
when I walked that road, but never
without carrying a big stick.
I carried that stick with eyes open wide,
cause daddy said, if a rattlesnake bit you…
you might die.
In the summer, I would go there almost
every day skipping and hopping along;
I would jump from that rickety old bridge
into that muddy water; before the sun
went down I would go home.
Daddy never wondered where I had gone,
everyone who crossed that bridge told him
where I was, so you see I was never alone.
When I finally got home, he would just look
at me with a sly grin saying…
“Baby you’d better not let your mama
find out where you been”.
©2012.annjohnsonmurphree
ann johnson-murphree 
Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
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I really enjoyed this. it made me think of when i was younger when my mom would warn my sister and me not to go down to the creek in the back of our house. She said we could get bit by snakes. Thanks for the read!
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Thank you for reading, as a child I was not afraid of anything. However, years ago Alabamians who bought baby alligator’s in Florida eventually put them into Flint Creek. They are now old, brought forth children and all of them sun themselves on the bank. The muddy water is dangerous. Too bad! ajm
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