like those who matter most
water washes away the past
cleanses if you will
like the dirt you once kicked
down dusty fields
sometimes you mixed the dirt
with water
and turned them into clay animals
set them strategically in the open
only to hunt them down in the dead of night
switchblade at your side
the full moon your flashlight
so many years later the rains fell so hard
gushing down the hill
penetrating your fortress walls
filling the boxes
where you stored many other
surreal adventures
untouched for decades
you cried for days
having thought you lost
the imagination of your past
only to remember
what was lost can one day be restored
like the lives of those who matter most
may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
This moves me deeply. I came back to read it again
I’m elated this poem moves you, Rose. Thank you so much for your comments.
amazing!
thank you bonnie – I’m elated you think so!
I love it
thank you, Morgan
The surrealism of those clay animals is perfect.
thank you my friend