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"ode to golden days"-a poem by Selah Greer


ode to golden days


the country is a good place to be

in july.

tiny hands plucking grapes,

dancing in the dust 

only deep south dirt can breathe.

playing hide and seek 

from the afternoon sun.

splashing in a river,

red dirt ruined clothes 

on its bank.

rickety chairs and too sweet tea

as the sun sinks low in the sky.

lying together in a room

yellow as the light of memory

the smell of lavender upon

linen sheets.

morning still came

but growing up came with it.

the innocence of childhood is sweet

though it lingers on your tongue

and makes you wish for just

one 

last 

taste.

-Selah Greer, freshman


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