There are places where bridges, traveled by foot, carry traffic from one county to another,
where keeping up is not important, but keeping memories is,
Where music is breakfast, lunch and dinner (with sliced tomatoes on the side, and chunks of coal for warmth if need should be),
where the old ways, old places and old times are not the past but the present,
where what once was is still with us, and what is now, is simple, old-time ways,
where days end with sun's glory over the hills,
and the day's goodness in our hearts.
Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Made me homesick. Jim
ReplyDeleteYour poem made me think of family and old time visits too . . .
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