Robin Sagstetter
I remember chasing Charlie through old man CarterÕs cornfield,
And drinking pop on the back porch,
Lightning bug lanterns, the screech of crickets,
And dreaming of having a horse.
I remember taking the trail to DevilÕs ditch,
And the crunch of unraked leaves,
Catching crawdads, skipping stones,
Hoping someone would carve me on a tree.
I remember sneaking to ice-skate on SamboÕs creek,
Putting on two pairs of socks,
Molding snowballs with ambitious mittens,
Aiming for infinite treetops.
I remember the buzzing of bees crooning bluebirds eating seeds
When I grew out of my Easter dress,
Sprouting up above the summer corn
Wondering what I was going to do next
I remember loading up the truck with Memphis dog and some junk
Setting out to the city of stars,
Radio roaring with my foot to the floor,
Destined to be on that boulevard.
Much redemption has been had since IÕve been back
To that picnic of a place
No sweet corn farms in this city here
Just fields of broken down dreams
So I pick up a pebble and throw it toward home
As it splashes a hole in the sea
I make a wish my innocence will
Ripple out and find me again one day-
Or Eve.
Robin Sagstetter is an English and Literary Journalism double major with an Emphasis in poetry and fiction student at University of California Irvine. She has had two poems published so far, and is currently working on a novel. She is from a small town in Ohio called Groveport, and has sentimentality for home that comes out in most of her writing. Her professional goals include working as a writer in some form or another and attending law school.