Dead Man’s Creek
Driving down the blacktopDown near Dead Man’s Creek.Where the timbers shiverIn the cold wind of November. Just past the old airport roadBut the planes left this dying townA long, long time ago.And no one blames them anymore. The strip hasn’t been used in years For anything but a petulant party pad Away from the prying eyesOf parental supervision The gaze we used to hateThinking it was holding us backOnly years later did we learnedTo appreciate the guide For we were youngWe were recklessBut in the ways You are supposed to be Until the day Timmy disappearedInto the bottom of the … Continue reading Dead Man’s Creek
