【by Sadie Zeiner-Morrish】

Down the street was what we called the General Store,
Although that isn’t really what it was,
Just a someone’s house with a chicken coop and a garden.
Out front, they sold eggs by the dozen and carrots and carrot seeds,
And little porcelain roosters we bought for two dollars and placed by the sink.
Mrs. and Mr. Dombroski owned the store;
We would sit by the bridge across the street looking over the river,
Listening to them toss grain and call out to the chickens in Polish,
“Kurczaki, chodź kurczaki” and sometimes we ran around laughing And
echoing them, “kurczaki, kurczaki!”

My brother and I looked for quarters and pocketed them.
We loved the little trinkets we could find there,
Our very own treasures. One day we decided to play a trick On
Mr. Dombroski. My brother ran to that house screaming About
a brown bear, and both those grey heads peered outside
Holding brooms and the gun while they chattered;
I snuck into the back and took a hen up in my arms.
She made some awful noise until Mr. Dombroski came out the back door. With
that broom he chased me all the way down the street while we screamed,
My hen screaming too, while the sun shone on the river and the happy currents gurgled, Until
we were caught and scolded,
And had to settle for our porcelain roosters. So
bright in my mind that memory is now;
Although small we felt
Bigger than the whole world.