As a Young Child

When I was a young child,
I loved to explore, the creek
which passed by our back door.
The sound of the water, over rock
and stone; the attack on my senses,
as water, gurgled and splashed,
are memories, from a long ago past.
Turn over a rock and you would find,
a little creature; a periwinkle.
It's shell was hard; sand and grit,
to protect the larvae, living within.
They hatched in the Spring, a May fly,
and the fish, in the stream, ate again.
There were little fish, a "Bullhead"
looked like a small catfish, to me.
As my recall is slipping away,
but I have remembrances, mine,
which I will recall again and again.