Isanti

by Rachael | April 25, 2018
Poetry Contest 2018
                                              "Little Dot" The scrawny trails, the old swing tree, it all comes flooding back to me. The little store, the small libraryIt’s simply too hard to believeThis town, my home, this spotIs actually just a little dot.The rows of corn, the sky so blueThe sunsets of orange, red, and pink hueTo me, this place always seemed hugeIt’s simply too hard to be trueThis town, my home, this spotIs really just a little dotThe Green barn, the leaves that fallThe trees that create a painted wallHow can it contain it all, and yet still be so small?This town, my home, this spotIs simply just a little dot.The cool nights the dark sky’s painted lights,The white snow, and the deep blue iceHow can such a small place give such delight?This town, my home, this spotIs it is truly just a little dot?The rolling fields, the budding treesThe melody of chickadeesIt may be small, but I’ve come to believeThis town, my home, this spot,Is more than just a little dot.    
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