It always happened in the fall of the year
When the temperature dropped and left a chill in the air
We’d pile fire wood round the old wash pots
Fill ‘em up with water and get it real hot
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Yeah buddy, I remember those days with a great fondness also. That was a much simpler time of life, harder but simpler.Great job.
This is a good poem. Well written, and 'local', I should say, : P The scenes of killing the hog are very vivdly expressed. That's a compliment for you and your skills, but a minus for me: I turn out to be a vegetarian, lol. But you did a very good job all the same. :)
Richard, I still remember hog killing time like it was yesterday. Regards Ron