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> My Summer on Raspberry Hill **, a rewrite of an older freeverse
Ali zonak
post Jul 4 17, 13:08
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My Summer on Raspberry Hill

In 1944 I was too young
to go to war.
Coal-fired locomotives,
like smoke-belching dragons,
dragged draftees away
to boot camps, then to be
swallowed up by battlefields.

Trainloads of young men
passed Raspberry Hill.
At each whistle blow
we stopped picking berries
from laden bushes and rushed
to the overpass, leaned
over the railing,
waiting
for the dragon’s smoke
and vapor to carry us
to his fearful
lair among the clouds.

We heard the whooshing
of wings. Not the dragon,
but an army scout plane hard-landed
on the railroad tracks.

Uninjured, the pilot grinned goofily
and waved:
“Hey, kids! Did ya see him?”
“Who?”
“The Jap with a blister on his ass . . . .”
But there were no Japanese soldiers;
that fly-boy must’ve been flying
upside down far too long.

Our Mexican farmhand
scampered down the embankment,
ran along the tracks waving his bandana
to warn the approaching dragon.
The monster screeched,
stopped . . . just in time.

From above we stared
at those gaunt faces below
peering through windows:
enemy prisoners,
heading for POW camp.

Moments later, the dragon snorted,
puffed and screamed.
We rushed to the other bridge railing
for one more look
at those foreign soldiers.

“Crummy Nazies,” someone said,
but the rest was swallowed up
by the shrieking dragon
as he turned around the bend
and then out of sight.

We picked more berries
to fill our buckets.
Agnes placed one between her lips,
and I stole the succulent fruit
with mine. On Raspberry Hill.


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greenwich
post Jul 4 17, 13:51
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This poem is delightful. The child exposed to the POWs
in transit on the imagined dragon blowing fumes of smoke. A great juxaposion between reality and fantasy until the refrain Crummy Nazis. Picking the berries seemed to recall a bucolic ideal but taking the berries from Agnes lips suggests burgeoning sensuality which is very touching


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Ali zonak
post Jul 4 17, 15:11
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QUOTE (greenwich @ Jul 4 17, 13:51 ) *
This poem is delightful. The child exposed to the POWs
in transit on the imagined dragon blowing fumes of smoke. A great juxaposion between reality and fantasy until the refrain Crummy Nazis. Picking the berries seemed to recall a bucolic ideal but taking the berries from Agnes lips suggests burgeoning sensuality which is very touching


Thank you, Greenwich;
those were the days before diesel locomotives; now, so many years later I still haven forgotten that incident. The love bug bit me around the age of nine or ten, but since it was not a deer tick, I survived the bug bite, lol. Golden memories, oh, yes. Thank you, my friend. Ali


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JustDaniel
post Jul 4 17, 16:10
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You're a great story-teller here, Ali. I love the drama and surprises knit neatly into it.

I came along a bit too late to see any enemy soldiers in trains in Tacoma, WA... but there may have been some there, since Ft. Lewis is there within my home Pierce County, where Tacoma is the County Seat and Mt Rainier sits on the Throne. I've spoken with many soldiers who disembarked from Ft. Lewis to overseas in WWII and Viet Nam who had been at Ft Lewis for some time and hadn't seen the mountain, when one day the clouds lifted from around it, and shocked them. It took up the whole sky. That happens there a lot. On a clear day, Mt. Rainier can simply catch you aghast!
National Park Service Photo

I do recall the puffing locomotives myself, having walked the tracks just about a half mile up the hill from my boyhood home, picking up a spilled coal here and there for our wood stove. The trains regularly hauled 100 lumber cars filled to the top with giant Douglas fir logs heading for the mills. The tracks ran right alongside our Boys Club, where I worked from age 12-17 before college. I also recall the trick of putting a penny or nickel on the tracks, allowing the train to totally flatten and expand them! We loved that as kids... when we could afford it!

Well, I have digressed a bit. Perhaps showing my age, huh?

The "Crummy Nazis" is a clever kids'-eye-view twist.

deLighting in your sharing, Daniel sun.gif


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Eisa
post Jul 4 17, 16:42
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This is wonderful, Ali! You are certainly a great story teller.

I love the dragon like descriptions:

Coal-fired locomotives,
like smoke-belching dragons,

waiting
for the dragon’s smoke
and vapor to carry us
to his fearful
lair among the clouds.

Moments later, the dragon snorted,
puffed and screamed.


I remember steam trains so well. My grandparents had quite a long garden and the railway line used to run just past the end. I used to love to see a train come by - smoke belching and always waved at the driver who waved back. Happy memories!

I can't see anything I would change here, I just enjoyed every line.

Look forward to your next.
Eira


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Laugh loud & often - it's medicinal.
Write from the heart - it's therapeutic.
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Ali zonak
post Jul 4 17, 17:00
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QUOTE (JustDaniel @ Jul 4 17, 16:10 ) *
You're a great story-teller here, Ali. I love the drama and surprises knit neatly into it.

I came along a bit too late to see any enemy soldiers in trains in Tacoma, WA... but there may have been some there, since Ft. Lewis is there within my home Pierce County, where Tacoma is the County Seat and Mt Rainier sits on the Throne. I've spoken with many soldiers who disembarked from Ft. Lewis to overseas in WWII and Viet Nam who had been at Ft Lewis for some time and hadn't seen the mountain, when one day the clouds lifted from around it, and shocked them. It took up the whole sky. That happens there a lot. On a clear day, Mt. Rainier can simply catch you aghast!
National Park Service Photo

I do recall the puffing locomotives myself, having walked the tracks just about a half mile up the hill from my boyhood home, picking up a spilled coal here and there for our wood stove. The trains regularly hauled 100 lumber cars filled to the top with giant Douglas fir logs heading for the mills. The tracks ran right alongside our Boys Club, where I worked from age 12-17 before college. I also recall the trick of putting a penny or nickel on the tracks, allowing the train to totally flatten and expand them! We loved that as kids... when we could afford it!

Well, I have digressed a bit. Perhaps showing my age, huh?

The "Crummy Nazis" is a clever kids'-eye-view twist.

deLighting in your sharing, Daniel sun.gif



Oh, Daniel, what a great photo of Rainier! It's a great area, and I had to chuckle at the thought of us kids flattening nickels and pennies on the tracks. At first I had reservations about my "attempts" to derail the locomotive--silly boy, lol.
Yes, we had those POW camps everywhere, and some prisoners actually worked the fields without more than one guard keeping a sleepy eye on them. My folks always appreciated them for their work ethics. Actually, I don't mind showing my age; I think you and I have forgotten more than some smartaleck could ever hope to acquire, lol.
What can I really say about your comment? Perhaps that it was a genuine pleasure to hear your own recollections of decades gone by. Thank you very much, my friend. Equally delighted, drillsergeant.gif Ali


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~~~~
 
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Ali zonak
post Jul 4 17, 17:17
Post #7


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Real Name: Ali Zonak
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QUOTE (Eisa @ Jul 4 17, 16:42 ) *
This is wonderful, Ali! You are certainly a great story teller.

I love the dragon like descriptions:

Coal-fired locomotives,
like smoke-belching dragons,

waiting
for the dragon’s smoke
and vapor to carry us
to his fearful
lair among the clouds.

Moments later, the dragon snorted,
puffed and screamed.


I remember steam trains so well. My grandparents had quite a long garden and the railway line used to run just past the end. I used to love to see a train come by - smoke belching and always waved at the driver who waved back. Happy memories!

I can't see anything I would change here, I just enjoyed every line.

Look forward to your next.
Eira


Hello, Eira;
it's always a pleasure to share a story with fellow-writers who can relate to long-past events and trying times. A friend of mine has a home in Goshen, Indiana, with the tracks running right alongside his back yard, just as was the case with your grandparents. It's hard to imagine trains passing though every hour, day and night. He is so used to it, he'll never leave his home--while alive. I'm glad you liked my story. Thank you, Eira. charliebrown.gif Ali


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