Farmhouse Memories

At the roadside cafe
the smell of frying bacon
made Mary remember:
Farmer Bill, lanky and tall.
Bill’s wife, Velma who
hardly talks.  Mary,
orphaned at three
(a gentle soul)
placed in their care
on their farm
by the County
officials. 

Blue kitchen walls,
chipped china,
a coffee pot like
from western times;
the marshall’s office
in Gunsmoke. 

Waitress pours Mary
more coffee.  Mary
smiles thanks, closes
her eyes and continues
to see images of the farm
on State Line Road. 

A bullet hole in blue tile.
In the kitchen, right where
Velma sat for breakfast.
Someone in the field had
fired a gun at the house…
divine intervention. 

Corn fields, green stalks,
wondrous places to hide.
An escape from bullies,
from her loneliness.
Winter drifts hip-high,
a barn with a loft,
an old yellow tractor.
Pitchforks and hoes…
precious time.  Hickory
scent, her mind at ease.


40 Lines 
(Story to Poem) 
Writer’s Cramp 
9-9-19

Poem based on:

Farmhouse Remembrances  (E) Mary harkens back to when she was a child. #2135269 by Don Two