I pull off my sneakers and socks
Before wading into the murky creek
My feet sink deep into the mud
Which squishes between my toes
In the distance, I see a red-eared slider
Sitting on an old, partially submerged log
A great blue heron stands on the bank
And watches the water, hunting for a snack
As a school of bluegill darts around my legs
Taking little nips at the freckles on my knees
High above, the sun hangs like a giant lemon
That drips heat and light on everything below
I splash cool water on my face and chest
To wash away the beads of sticky sweat
For a moment, I think I could stay forever
Until I hear my grandmother calling my name
Through an open window in her kitchen
Saying its time to come home and eat lunch
