An Acrostic Golden Shovel for Robert Frost
by Kathy Lohrum Cotton

               …the aim was song.
               And listen–how it ought to go!

               –from “The Aim Was Song”

Remember how we fired-off the
Old melodies of childhood, our aim
Becoming better as each note was
Etched on drifting clouds, each song
Recorded on waves of wind and
Traveling where strangers might listen.
For a moment, the world could hear how
Rich the sound of youth can be, how it
Opens our hearts as music ought,
So new tunes can be born to
Take us anywhere we want to go.


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