Good Ole Farm Days

We came to visit the land where
November winds were
colder than a whisper of icicles

a family home of fallen timbers
weather-ravaged
dropped into a neat package of crumpled
newspapers and window shards
a sanctuary for mice and
other creatures
sky peeking through apple trees
pussy willows alongside
a muddy bank – an album
of memories.

Our childhood swam in that
creek after
chasing cows
feeding pigs
minding the chickens
helping momma and poppa
busy with chores. Then we grew into
city folk a long time ago.

© Richard L. Provencher

First published – Strong Verse 1/17/2012
An Online Poetry Magazine
Greensboro, NC