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A weekly video reading of poetry by the poet.
Sweet Time
by Charlene Knadle
Eight-year olds, some nine,
they were starting to feel
in charge of their worlds.
A three-acre knoll of pines
at the corner of Burr's Lane
and Half Hollow Road,
public school grounds,
made a perfect place for a party
at the end of the soccer season.
Three girls built a fort
from fallen branches. Some
sprawled across the clean spongy
floor of deep, layered needles
looking at the canopy above.
We shared a spherical cake,
a colorful ball full of names
inside of hexagons.
When Five Towns College
bought the school,
it cut the pine grove in half
to build a dormitory.
I drive past, grateful for
the remnant of green,
wondering how many young women,
now adults, pass by and point,
tell their companions
of the fun they had that day.