Marydale

The first hills went so-so, up-down; I re-

member that ride, that trip on green plastic

seats. We all would wait for just that. When we

felt it coming, a wave grew; up and quick-

ly, like a roller-coaster. We knew

there were three (was it four?), so it would repeat

and you had to be patient. And if you

did not know this, you fell out (one more beat).

(Incidentally, we also made marsh-

mellows burn, sank canoes, lost friends, and all

the other camp stuff that…well, it’s too harsh

to say it; so soon done by the cold fall).

But on our long ride, the bus trip there,

I learned to love it, that brief and bright scare.

*

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.

You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

Give it a look...