In the corner of a younger eye I picture my time.
School would never end in those long-lasting days .
But now it seems a life time ago, lost in a haze.
Work never ends on a farm, it be grown,done or need fix’n
Sitting on the fender of a tractor with Dad as he plow.
Buckets of milk to feed the jerky little cows
A garden the size of a country, my Mother would plant.
Pulling weeds in the garden for hours on end.
Our winter treats Mom did attend.
Brothers and sister hanging out, trying to figure out what life was about
Wandering through the fields, and bush, and creeks.
kicking dirt and squirting mud between our feet.
A peace that’s ceased, in a standing time we though would never die.
Farm memories of a time when things were simple
In the corner of a younger eye so little.