Page 10 -
P. 10
For Review Only
The wind softly says into the boy’s ear,
“Plums are ripe in the mountains.” The
boy runs up the mountain with his friends,
climbing up trees like a bunch of monkeys.
They pick plums and tuck these golden-red
pearls into their pockets, bags, and watering
mouths. On the way home, they chatter
about the delicious plum cakes their mothers
will bake. Oh, the fantastic days of summer!
