Delaplane, Kristin

Mar 01, 1998

Abstract: 'When I think of my childhood days spent in Vacaville, I feel sad and lonely again. I am sitting in the swing under the fig tree pushing forward then back, forward, then back. Once in a while a ripe fig falls to the ground with a loud smack! The ants run to taste of its sweetness. Far, far off I hear the crowing of a rooster. Then further yet, an answering crowing. Then vibrating silence!''