Wednesday, April 9, 2014



I’m not moving.
Uh-uh. No way.

I’ve made my decision:
I’m staying right here.

Dad and Mom can move,
and Ray can go, too.

But I’m twelve and I can
care for myself just fine.

They’re selling our house,
so I’ll camp in the woods.

My sleeping bag works great
down to twenty-five below.

I’ll fix hot dogs and soup
over a campfire.

I’ll bathe in the the stream
and walk to school.

When I need lunch money
or my report card signed—

anyway, I’m not moving.

                                  from Moving Day

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