PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I can see the red dirt yard

With its weathered shanty shack,

And the hound dog slapping tail,

And the clothesline farther back.

I can visualize the treeline

With the pines so thick and tall,

And the rolling store, an old bus,

Bringing knick-knacks, food and all,

There's the well with Granny turning

As the windlass winds the rope,

And the ragged little children

Holding pennies and their hope.

There's the garden spot and outhouse,

There's a rooster, hen and chicks,

Look, the Momma is descending

From the bus store with her picks.

Ever since I woke this morning

In the cold and dark at home

This painting has been haunting

Of a time that's now long gone.

I think I'll put to canvas

For all to see and know,

The one you see before you

Once lived and loved just so.