Nostalgic

They say you can't go back.
But I saw no harm--
I felt a need--
In fact, compelled
To visit the old farm

But when I took the jaunt
My recall had played tricks--
Old haunts were there
But charm had waned
From my old stones and sticks.

The horse tank now was steel;
Machines stood in a ring.
The barnyard gate
We used to drag,
Now hinged for easy swing.

I recognized Old Sal--
Near blind - now halt and lame.
My dog went "Woof!"
And sniffed her hoof.
She kicked loose rein and hame.

High-tail bedlam now prevailed
In cow shed and corral--
Decorum lost,
The melee cost
Contented - cud morale.

A hog came bounding toward me
All caked with shiny crud--
But hogs don't bound!
Cripe, it's my hound!
aglow in barnyard mud!

by Violet Godfrey

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