The Famliy Farm

• Olivia Presta, Grade 5l
• Poetry
• 2017

A overpowering sent of manure is flaming through my nostrils.
A deserted landscape is waiting to be explored.
The sun lowers behind the monstrous mountains that behold feral animals.
My surroundings are silent until a stampede of parents come sprinting to the scene.
The wind howls as we gather gigantic logs.
Dry grass brushes against my smooth skin.
As I swing my leg over an Ancient rusty motorbike.
Wind blows in my face as we ride beyond the mountains.