The Creek We came out to the creek and the concrete brick wall creeping over the culvert, the water six feet below and the dark dank of the tunnel, breathing, skippers walking on water and the three of us sprawled on the hot stone with the sudden soft ash of a slug’s body between us, and the long line of fences to one side of the gulley that guttered slow-wise through the suburban backyards, the stream dappled-dyed gold leaf in the sunlight, moving to the monotone moan of lawn mowers, hedge clippers, the dull buzz of a thousand bugs, the…