Poetry

My Granddads porch was awesome
Though really quite austere
A place where neighbors sat and talked
Most any time of year
A place that’s in my memory
From a better time, I’m sure
I don’t recall great happenings
But I always felt secure
We’d sit there in the morning
Watch the cars and trucks go by
And every neighbor, as they passed
Would throw their hand up high
After supper in the evening
To the porch we would retire
And watch a brilliant sunset
Form a watercolor sky
The tree frogs and the crickets
Would croon their soothing trill
But my favorite sound of evening
Was the call of the whippoorwill
We’d go to bed quite early
I’d sleep soundly through the night
And wake to the aroma
Of breakfast cooking at sunrise
As I think back upon this time
I often mellow out
And wonder why it takes so long
To learn what really counts
I would truly love to go back
And relive this one more time
But the only way I’ve found, that works
Is to live it in my mind
Copyright: CR. Clark 4/5/07