Return Of The Village Boy Poem by Alfred Lichtenstein
Return Of The Village Boy
In my youth the world was a small pond,
Grandma and red roof, lowing
Of oxen and a clump of trees.
And all around the huge green meadow.
How lovely was this dreaming into distance.
This absolute nothingness as bright air and wind
And bird cries and fairy-tale books.
Far off the fabled iron snake whistled--
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: books,fairy,green,snake
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8/14/2026 12:32:01 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
