My young writing life: a solitary hike up Kilimanjaro
(apprentice, as I was, to no one specifically). I wrote
and wrote until Kilimanjaro was scaled, Mont Blanc,
and Snowdon. The graciousness of State College
revealed itself in sublets: South Atherton Street, West
Nittany Avenue. I surveyed my papers, which for me
were drenched in the ecstasy of tears, terror, and tremors
transcended; and charted Central Pennsylvania as a mighty
mind— a million shades of green. For a few months, this
little college town was representatively, legitimately my
possession. I consumed College Avenue as though
it were nitrous, my diploma made of universe, or the heaven
of poetry’s gravel-paths. Much of me would remain where
this breakthrough occurred, could never change. Nature’s way.
© Adam Fieled 2022-2026
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