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Column 163

Ode to Marbles

Intro by Ted Kooser
05.14.2008

I have always enjoyed poems that cel­e­brate the small plea­sures of life. Here Max Mendel­sohn, age 12, of West­on, Mass­a­chu­setts, tells us of the joy he finds in play­ing with marbles. 

Ode to Marbles

I love the sound of marbles   
scattered on the worn wooden floor,   
like children running away in a game of hide-and-seek.   
I love the sight of white marbles,   
blue marbles,   
green marbles, black,   
new marbles, old marbles,   
iridescent marbles,   
with glass-ribboned swirls,   
dancing round and round.   
I love the feel of marbles,   
cool, smooth,   
rolling freely in my palm,   
like smooth-sided stars   
that light up the worn world.

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Disclaimer

We do not accept unsolicited submissions

We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2004 by The Children’s Art Foundation. Reprinted from Stone Soup, May/June, 2004, by permission of the publisher, www.stonesoup.com. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.