The Farm

 

 

It was a long gravel road to get to the place,
The dust billowed behind the car.
And though they were long ago days,
I’ll always remember the farm.

Past potato fields and bales of hay
And sagebrush in the hills.
I was ten years old but remember those days
With a ten year olds details.

She always had gingersnap cookies
And a game of Scrabble to play.
The squeak of the windmill in the breeze.
A 100 year old map on display.

In the kitchen was an old iron stove
For cooking up a meal.
Outside were headstones in a row
Behind a fence of steel.

I know I can’t go back again
To the boy that I outgrew
But I’m glad boyhood memories remain
Of the farm that I once knew.

 

 

Copyright © Kerik M Just 2008