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Aug. 11th, 2008
Home Poems
Aug. 11th, 2008 12:13 pmI excised this section from my poem Defining Home because it seems like it can stand on its own. I also made a few other, minor edits to the main poem..
Childhood Home
A real college town has an annual rhythm as predictable as the seasons themselves.
Fall is here when the roar of the football crowd
and the drums of the marching band ring out on Saturday morning.
Winter when the ducks and geese leave the Red Cedar River for warmer climes.
Spring has arrived when the smell of the freshly fertilized fields drifts into your bedroom window.
The Arts Festival means that summer will be here any day,
and the Michigan Fest means that summer is almost over.
"Welcome Back Students" signs sprout everywhere in August
and the quiet streets grow noisy again
with autumn's football crowds.
(I know, the Michigan Fest has been gone for years now. The Folk festival is cool, but not the same.)
Childhood Home
A real college town has an annual rhythm as predictable as the seasons themselves.
Fall is here when the roar of the football crowd
and the drums of the marching band ring out on Saturday morning.
Winter when the ducks and geese leave the Red Cedar River for warmer climes.
Spring has arrived when the smell of the freshly fertilized fields drifts into your bedroom window.
The Arts Festival means that summer will be here any day,
and the Michigan Fest means that summer is almost over.
"Welcome Back Students" signs sprout everywhere in August
and the quiet streets grow noisy again
with autumn's football crowds.
(I know, the Michigan Fest has been gone for years now. The Folk festival is cool, but not the same.)
Home Poems
Aug. 11th, 2008 12:13 pmI excised this section from my poem Defining Home because it seems like it can stand on its own. I also made a few other, minor edits to the main poem..
Childhood Home
A real college town has an annual rhythm as predictable as the seasons themselves.
Fall is here when the roar of the football crowd
and the drums of the marching band ring out on Saturday morning.
Winter when the ducks and geese leave the Red Cedar River for warmer climes.
Spring has arrived when the smell of the freshly fertilized fields drifts into your bedroom window.
The Arts Festival means that summer will be here any day,
and the Michigan Fest means that summer is almost over.
"Welcome Back Students" signs sprout everywhere in August
and the quiet streets grow noisy again
with autumn's football crowds.
(I know, the Michigan Fest has been gone for years now. The Folk festival is cool, but not the same.)
Childhood Home
A real college town has an annual rhythm as predictable as the seasons themselves.
Fall is here when the roar of the football crowd
and the drums of the marching band ring out on Saturday morning.
Winter when the ducks and geese leave the Red Cedar River for warmer climes.
Spring has arrived when the smell of the freshly fertilized fields drifts into your bedroom window.
The Arts Festival means that summer will be here any day,
and the Michigan Fest means that summer is almost over.
"Welcome Back Students" signs sprout everywhere in August
and the quiet streets grow noisy again
with autumn's football crowds.
(I know, the Michigan Fest has been gone for years now. The Folk festival is cool, but not the same.)