“Get up and smile,” someone says.
“You’re going to a better place.”
They say it like “All dogs go
to heaven.”
Your best pet
went to live on a farm upstate.
The battles are over,
The fires put out,
Some think I’m crazy
to compare a house
of learning
to the place
where militia hide in
steep mountains and caves.
My father served in Vietnam.
He says, “You get out of there.”
Mom says, “I hate that school.
I want my daughter back.”
I am going to a better place
where I see teachers smile.
Then I hear someone yell,
I slip into a memory.
My child, yes, my child
pulls hair,
He gets lost in the shuffle
of the kids
punching,
kicking.
I see my girl on the ground.
She sits legs out like a baby girl
on a carpet crying loud for…
“Becca, Becca, it is me.”
Mom stands there next to the kids;
the ones I call
son and baby girl.
By Rebecca T. Dickinson
Corrie's Season 
Wow.. I really liked the rhythm of this poem, it gave me a peculiar mix of emotions.. nostalgia, sorrow and hope. Beautiful writing!
Thank you very much! The writing I’m doing right now is coming from years of very complicated emotions and events that forever changed me.