Billie Ruth Rose
I grew up at Finn Rock on the banks of the beautiful McKenzie. I wrote this poem many years later.
My youth was spent
in the out-of-doors
climbing hills,
climbing trees,
leaving prints on sandy shores,
collecting rocks I thought I’d keep forever.
Preoccupied
we never knew
that we were part of the fortunate few
to breathe fresh air.
In the warmth of the summer nights, we’d lie
and watch the stars fall across the sky.
