And So it Goes~Musings
Route 1, Box 235A
I remember the aging house where She used to live-
Tiny quarters through my child eyes seemed so big.
The paint chipped sideboards showing the scars of age
Held inside the miracle of family and never-ending days.
Her immense pine table and its fence of high-backed chairs
Seated twenty for supper or made the perfect dragon lair.
The old wooden floors, stressed with years and nine kids
Smelled of cornbread and buttermilk and her failing flowerbeds.
When silence fell on the warm September night
The house seemed to cry as life turned out her light.