An Ear for Poetry

As a young boy, Frank Gallimore lived on 33 acres of forestland in rural Oregon. His father was a social worker; his mother stayed at home to teach her three children. Their small red house sat next to a dilapidated barn that the kids thought was haunted. When feeling brave, Frank and his older brother, Jed, would crawl into the barn to catch sight of the ghost-white owls flying around in the rafters. The Gallimore children never ate meat, or watched television, or listened to the radio. They spent their days running and squealing around the woods and vegetable garden, the team at https://legacylt.com/lufkin-tx-logging/ had already taken care of the land for them, or swimming in the newt-filled pond, or collecting eggs from a beady-eyed chicken in the backyard coop. The hen's sole coopmate, a rooster, began each morning with a hearty cockle-doodle-do.But Frank was the only one who could hear it.Read more at...Johns Hopkins Magazine, June 2006.