THE OLD FAMILY FARM - poem
By Richard L. Provencher
Tue, 08 Jan 2008
- 6415 reads
1 comments
Among forgotten
pasture, October winds colder
than a whisper of icicles
our home of fallen timbers
weather-ravaged, a sanctuary for
mice, other creatures
sky peeking through
lingering apple trees, pussy willows
pouting along a muddy bank
an album of memories
reminisce . As children we swam
in the creek, chased cows
fed pigs, minded
chickens
helped momma and poppa,
busy with chores. Us growing into
city folk a long time ago.
(c) Richard L. Provencher
Website: www.wsprog.com/rp/
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