If I hold my head just right I catch a scent of The Grove at West School where small girls once designed floor plans with lines of pine needles, piled the softest for a plump bed, tiny tub scooped out to wash the baby. Small treasures collected in cupped hands: leaves to rival Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color, chips of mica miniature mirrors, flat stones pocketed for hopscotch, sassafras leaves held to noses. Acorns with caps were gathered, broken open, provided fresh meat. Echoes of "Red Rover, Red Rover" bounced off the school wall until the bell clanged and time was up.
|Published in The Longfellow Journal, Volume XIV
© Barbara J. Glynn
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