is a place -
was a place
when I was
that other self,
exuberant.
It was atop
a hill -
not so high
given the hills
of Middle Tennessee.
A narrow road
twisting and rising,
canopied by trees,
led precariously,
to its height,
but on the other side,
where we lived,
one approached the top
up a gentle, sunny
slope.
A church sat
at the top,
under which I
slept
with my dog Snowball.
Across
the narrow
gravel road,
stood
the one-room school.
That self I was
so long ago
expected
all churches and all schools
to be like those.
Would that they were,
would that they were.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem