Particular landscapes are coming to mind of when my
sons were younger.
Climbing rocky pathways into ravines and up South
Mountain, coming to a place where I found you could
yell and scream and your echo would do the same.
Whenever the boys seemed stressed from things that
happened at school, I'd bring them here and let them
scream and holler their little hearts out.
They'd always end up laughing and in good spirits,
forgetting the stress that had them strapped in strait
jackets all day at school.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem