I conjure memories that carry me back through time
to a farm-house now neglected
sitting in the bend of a dirt road
grey smoke curled from chimneys
twine tied bales filled the hay loft where
birds carried twigs of vine and trinkets for nests in the rafters
and salt blocks for cows sat near
fence posts capped with tin
I sigh and know it is a time and a place and a people
I cannot return to, except in spirit.
Written for The Sunday Whirl. The words are
twine, conjure, nest, carry, spirits, bend, through, curl, trinkets, neglect, caps, back, sigh.