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April 26, 2020
1967; Somewhere in the First Half of the Year
sometime in the middle of nineteen-sixty-seven Mom and Dad bought the house Beth and I would pull them form forty-three years later it was a big old post-and-beam farm house on land long sectioned off to new neighbours though one barn, unknowingly falling down and one out-building, destined for accidental flame remained to make the place seem less lonely sitting there all on its own at the first corner east of highway thirty-seven along the third after almost a mile of mostly empty road my brother and I thought the barn was fun the drive-shed behind it, which had fallen down even more so, despite Dad’s threats of a belt if he ever learned we’d risked our lives near it (we did, once, sliding down its metal roof but as Dad promised, we did it only once) so we were relegated to the barn, and shed the one where we lived imaginary adventures and the other where we explored two floors filled with treasure only young boys could love left behind by those far less enlightened folk who’d lived in and used the place before us one of the treasures remains a treasure I claimed it for my own, still hold it near left behind by a forgetful high-school grad who loved it little enough that it could be left for me to find in the dust behind some old junk “New Horizons”, edited by Bert Case Diltz, an anthology of what I’d never known was up until that day I’d never read a poem (except the Psalms of David from my Bible to which my debt continues to appreciate) from that day I don’t know that I’ve stopped
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1967, Somewhere in the First Half of the Year A poem by Peter Rhebergen Download the book Each New Day a Miracle Bible Studies How to Study the Bible Life is Wonderful Photography Copyright 2024 About me |
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