Archive for Sunday, August 8, 2010

Poet’s Showcase: ‘School Begins in the Country’

August 8, 2010

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Heart beating loudly,

breathing shallow and rapid.

Wheeling down the

packed dirt road as fast

as freckled legs can pedal.

Excitement fills wide eyes

of auburn haired boy.

School is starting!

Anxiety wells as faces

of teachers, friends, neighbors

flash through his mind.

He's grown several inches

over the summer.

Will he be recognized?

Will he remember his manners?

Many he's seen at church,

or on those Saturdays he'd

accompanied his parents

into town for weekly shopping.

Often, he preferred to stay at

home to get into mischief.

He finally spies the

yellow school bus.

Dirt puffs along roads

of gravel signaling

it's coming long before

he hears the rumbling

that drowns out

the sound of his tires

crunching on gravel.

The voice of a meadowlark

blends with the coos of

the morning doves.

School has begun in the country.

— Ronda Miller lives in Lawrence.

Send Poet’s Showcase submissions to jniccum@ljworld.com.

Comments

Ronda Miller 4 years, 11 months ago

This poem is dedicated to a favorite uncle. He's shy, but he knows who he is.

Thanks for sharing the same great love of hauntingly beautiful NW Kansas that I do. LUM!

Ronda Miller 4 years, 11 months ago

You must have walked slowly if you had to begin at dawn to walk half a mile. Dilly dallying?

I remember the importance of rocks, sticks, ants and all from those days. So few distractions, it was easy to notice important 'small' things.

Ronda Miller 4 years, 11 months ago

Agreed. I love the blackness of rural areas. New Mexico and Grants come to mind. Bird City and rural St. Francis do as well.

Steve Bunch 4 years, 11 months ago

This piece never overcomes its sentimentality, so it's hard finally to take it seriously. It's a verbal equivalent, I suppose, to a Norman Rockwell painting--cute, heartwarming, but lacking in depth of feeling and perception.

Ronda Miller 4 years, 11 months ago

I've written short stories that were said to be metaphor only. I actually took that, and your comments, favorably. You're learning to love my poetry, Alf!

How difficult is it to take an excited child, who is eagerly waiting school to begin - especially when they've been homebound all summer, seriously? You must have grown up in the city. I'll write that one, about diesel fumes, next week. :)

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