Just Down the Road

The boy I was so many years ago Loved to visit his grandpa Who lived in the best of places This city dweller could imagine so Those Ozark Mountains were adventure to me I the boy and trusted BB gun in tow Did explore the river bottom and climb tall trees To breath the mountain's cold air made this boy feel free The explorer I became for rocks snakes and frogs To romp after a bee just to see where it would go Or play in grandpa’s barn while watching my step Go fishing with grubs taken from under dead logs The swimming hole was by a low water bridge Just a quarter a mile at the bottom of the hill The tall weeping willow which offered its branches Served the hot summer days as the ideal plunging package As I recall how that red Arkansan chert path flowed How this boy’s grandest adventures for nature and beauty were made real For to walk again the paths of ancient Indians What grandness grandpa gave me when I traveled just down the road