Here again from memory. 
I’d slip down years ago
wet hair childish skin;
a Flume 
kept my head in thought,
afloat 

I turn, spot the bank 
hurl myself upon the dirt 
to eat its ridge 
hoping the grass  
will line  
my waterlogged stomach 
 
To be here again, 
Flume.
To be young again, 
alive.
To be me here,
again.