Ebenezer Poem by Frank Avon

is a place -
was a place
when I was
that other self,
exuberant.

It was atop
a hill -
not so high
given the hills
of Middle Tennessee.

A narrow road
twisting and rising,
canopied by trees,
led precariously,
to its height,

but on the other side,
where we lived,
one approached the top
up a gentle, sunny
slope.

A church sat
at the top,
under which I
slept
with my dog Snowball.

Across
the narrow
gravel road,
stood
the one-room school.

That self I was
so long ago
expected
all churches and all schools
to be like those.

Would that they were,
would that they were.