The Big Dip (Poetry)

‘The Big Dip’ we called it —
a long-weathered canyon of mud and tree roots
steep-sided it yawned without explanantion
for this sudden gouging of the earth
high on our wooded hillside.

For sure no river cut or carved its shape
then turned fickle and left it for another bed.
It was a mystery the braver kids explored
risked skinning their bare knees for
climbing down into its oddly weedless gap.

And at the bottom all leaves and litter — junk
no one wanted — no clues to piece together
back at camp. We pondered it...
’til someone made up a tale of giants
and lairs of local dragons just for fun
to entertain or give the smaller kids a fright.

Too many years roll on.
I don’t know if ‘The Dip’s still there
or if they’ve filled it in.
If not maybe that tale’s become
more than fancy... told ... retold.

Somewhere sometime legends
must begin.