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Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Secluded Houses Near Nowhere
   by Tyr Hawkaluk
   Grade 9, Ronan High School

	The house I live in.  Amazing ain’t it?
	My neighbor’s house, complete with horses.
	My bus, my neighbors, my neighborhood.

My neighborhood is like a boulder,
Never changing, always still.
So quiet each and everyday,
Some may wonder if it’s real.

The people here are friendly,
Always willing to extend a hand.
Even so, they keep to themselves,
Shutting everyone off whenever they can.

Driving through are strangers,
They see our towering trees.
Thinking that everyone out here,
Can always live at ease.

A summer breeze, just passing through,
Is the only sound we hear.
With no cars or city lights,
The stars at night all seem so near.

The Place That I Love
   by Izzy Sucha
   Grade 9, Ronan High School

	My House and Driveway
	Our Ponderosa Pine with Tire Swing
	Some of Our Chickens

The Place That I Love

I’ve lived here for 13 years
And I have never seen a place as beautiful and wild as this.

I feel lucky to live in the Mission Valley
Living right under our majestic mountains,
With
The ponderosa-pine forests, the grass fields, and the endless skies all around me.

The birds chirping, coyotes howling at the moon, dogs barking,
The wind rustling through the trees,
And the occasional late night party Music playing in the distance,
Those are the sounds of my home.

The dryness of the place in summer
The sharpness of the air in winter
The colors of the leafs in fall
And the taste of the rain in spring
Are the times I have grown to love.

Living here has made me realize how different town or city lifestyles can be
And how I love my country one.

Montana is my home,
It always was
And it always will be

This is the place that I feel free.

This is the place that I love.

By Izzy Sucha

This Will Always be my Home…
   by Kelsey Salomon
   Grade 9, Ronan High School

	Some of our cows…
	A road sign…
	Our corn field.

If you drive West of Pablo,
Just where the pavement ends,
You’ll find the place I’ve lived all my life,
My memories of life, family and friends.

Houses out here are rather separated,
There are farms all over the place.
Yet we’re still friendly and close.
We know almost every family, although not every face.

Sometimes people will stop in the middle of the road,
Just to chat and say hi,
They’ll just sit and talk in their trucks,
While other cars pass them by.

Some people come visit us with shiny new trucks,
They wonder why we never wash our cars.
But once or twice down our gravel roads,
And their vehicles are as dirty as ours.

You should come visit our neighborhood,
You might like what you see.
Who wouldn’t enjoy our view of the mountains,
Without all the noise from the city?

Mornings around here begin early in the summer.
There are always chores to be done.
I don’t think people realize how much,
Farmers work everyday in the sun.

But I can’t forget the peaceful summer nights,
With the sun setting in the west.
And as I hear the drone of a four-wheeler,
I know it’s my home that I will always love the best!