Breezy Days And Banjo Nights

What fire could ever equal the sunshine of a winter's day? - Thoreau

i remember going outside with mom to the line

handing her clothespins

talking about nothing

asking her why we didn't have a dryer

those times still flap in the breeze of my memories

pinned to my heart

fresh and clean

fluffed and folded

forever

put away the drum and fife

along with tumbling, electric strife

give me the simple life

in the pocket of the levis

the one's with the patches and holes

you'll find uncle jed clampett's, rusty, old, lint-covered, folded jacknife

Author's Note

"Already nature is serving all those uses which science slowly derives on a much higher and grander scale to him that will be served by her. When the sunshine falls on the path of the poet, he enjoys all those pure benefits and pleasures which the arts slowly and partially realize from age to age. The winds which fan his cheek waft him the sum of that profit and happiness which their lagging inventions supply." - Thoreau

Reviews

[Vol]

Pete,
This is why reality doesn't really suck... not while our memories still flap in the breeze...
Once, when my grandmother was hanging clothes she looked through the chicken wire to see what had them all stirred up... I don't know how she spotted that sinuous movement up in the vines but she told me to run get the .410... I did and without ever looking down, took it from me aimed, pulled the trigger, BOOM! And her cat tumbled to the ground...
Vol

[Pete]

ouch. truth is stranger than fiction. grandma had a sharp eye and steady hand. you never forgot that.

[Vol]

It was torture to non lay on the grass laughing...

[John the Baptist]

Actually, I'd rather look in Elly Mae's jeans.

[Pete]

at your age you'd better stick with granny's bloomers.