by Bess Sibley
When, as young parents, we raised up our crew
In a small Kansas town (population a hundred and two),
How well I remember the commotion and sounds
As our kids and their friends made our home their playground
“Shut the door!” I yelled loudly, my voice carried far,
As children raced through, leaving the back door ajar.
My husband came in and said,
“Mama, cool down!
I just hear doors slamming — all over town.”