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When I was Young in the Country This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

When I was Young in the Country
With thanks to Linda Rief for When I was Young at the Ocean
By Lucia Feltovich



When I was young in the country, I’d walk down the hill to the park and play alone in the fallen autumn leaves. Like a million dancers, twirling and pirouetting in the crisp, cool air. Sometimes I sat, immobile, on the swings. No one ever taught me how to pump my legs.


When I was young in the country, I played with dragonflies and snails and caterpillars, and carried them with me in cans as my most prized possessions. I plucked flowers with bees on them and carried them home, careful to keep my gait smooth and stealthy so the bee wouldn’t detect movement.


When I was young in the country, I had frostbite on my ears and sunburn on my nose during September. I scented the air like a hound dog and filled my nose with hay, trees, and dirt smells. At the first snow I pressed my nose against the windows and blew frost trees on the icy pane, built cities of snow, and froze my toes trying to dig a hole to China.


As the snow melted, tiny green and pink buds appeared on delicate branches. The calluses on my palms hardened again as I practiced swinging on the monkey bars, getting ready to show my friends. When I was young, I never wished to live in the city, or go to the sea, or visit another continent. The country was enough.



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bmkcnm said...
Oct. 23, 2012 at 8:53 am
Very nice! Looking forward to your next submission!
 
Blue said...
Oct. 19, 2012 at 8:46 pm
What a beautiful little poem. The part about sunburn on your nose and frostbite on your ears brought back memories of my own childhood. You write beautifully. Thank you for sharing this with us.
 
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