That’s what we always called it.
Sure, we lived near the water treatment facility,
but we didn’t FEEL like
people who lived near the water treatment facility.
It was mostly a place for kisses.
Young, sweaty kisses and cheap cologne and
prayers to God about pregnancy after the first time
even though she didn’t and I didn’t.
I almost bit off my tongue while sledding there
with my brother and sister. I remember trudging back home
the same way I remember so many other things,
which is to say not at all.
I went back here and there over the years,
like the time we played Frisbee after rehab.
I even showed my kids around,
though they didn’t seem to feel the lingering magic.
Today I searched it on Google Earth,
but I couldn’t see the details through the trees.
Still, I’m sure we’re there on the swings,
or slumped against the handball wall no one ever used.