I remember going down to the Little Miami

There’s this spot in Old Milford

I frequented almost daily as a teenager

Now over a decade later I still see it

Though I come to this place far less frequently

The memory has not faded

Visiting this river brings a chilly feeling over my skin

Something deeper than nostalgia takes hold

The reverberations of guitar strings echo in the distance

Ripples in the water recoil, rushing back to the epicenter

I am a pebble

I am skipping in the water

Less serenity, more incredulity

That I was once in another world

That I’m at once beyond the bank of time

Memories spanning two decades collide in waves

In converging coalescence

A pebble hitting water spilling time over itself