Fountain of Youth

When I was young we would go there to camp, before my parents had signed for divorce. We’d plan our steps by the light of the lamp to watch the water fall without remorse. The path would wind and crawl through darkened trees and in the night the black sky’s scars would gleam. I’d hear the crickets whisper through the leaves and search for fairies dancing in moonbeams. Then once we’d reached the top and come back down, my dad would play sweet songs beside the fire; We’d sing along, our voices freely loud watching the smoke swirl off and up its spire. And now when life gets rough and needs amends I go to Silver Falls to breathe again.