Please enjoy this short piece of writing about my childhood growing up in the suburbs of Massachusetts. It explores themes of independence, aloneness, childhood, discovering nature and one's innate wildness.
While I stood here, in the open, lost in myself, I must have looked a long time Down the corn rows, beyond grass, The small house, White walls, animals lumbering toward the barn. I look down now. It is all changed. Whatever it was I lost, whatever I wept for Was a wild, gentle thing, the small dark eyes Loving me in secret. It is here. At a touch of my hand, The air fills with delicate creatures From the other world.