The World Disappears Behind Me

By Al Bredenberg

The world changes behind me.

When I go back to the places I've been and the places I've lived, things are changed or gone. The further back in my life I go, the greater the changes.

Here was a house I lived in when I was five. Now a condo building stands in its place and the double oak tree that used to have a trapeze hanging from it is gone.

A valley is filled in and covered with houses.

Here there was a tree-shaded creek, which we could follow for miles through the woods. A watercourse is a wonderful thing, isn't it? It should be preserved alive, shouldn't it? Now it runs under the streets -- drainage trickling through a culvert. I bend down at an iron grate at the side of the street (which was a dirt road, now paved with concrete curbs and a sidewalk). Far below I can heard the creek bubbling in the dark. I used to wade in it knee-deep, searching for crawdads. I think it has forgetten me now.

The world disappears behind me.

AB -- 8/20/05