Once you asked me to give you a map
though I hadn’t one for something like that.
But there was that key I’d had always
a fat iron key somewhat rusty
certainly mysterious
that I’d unearthed in the yard
at 6148 while digging for worms.
We fished, occasionally, as kids with
plain bamboo poles. I was twelve then
at my peak as a person and there it was
that marvelous key under a few inches of dirt.
So in place of a map I gave you my most
prized possession: that old rusty key.
The look of bewilderment on your face
told All. We did not last but I did
get my key back.
