EVERGREEN
by Mariane Holbrook
In Pennsylvania’s rolling hills A tiny village stands; Its country roads wind crookedly Past fertile, fresh-plowed lands.
The country store is there no more But there was once a time We’d walk at least a mile or more To spend a hard-earned dime.
The country school where Mother went Is painted over white; The clapboard church she loved so much Is on another site.
The graveyard gate is rusty now, The weeks grow tall inside; The flowers on my grandma’s grave Were fresh, but now have died.
My grandma’s house is very changed; My tears are falling fast. My eyes search vainly here and there For something from the past.
The barn I miss the most of all; The smell of new-mown hay; The search for eggs in hidden spots Where hens would likely lay.
The garden spot behind the barn Shows signs of lack of care; The berry bushes all cut down, The pasture land is bare.
The apple trees that Grandpa loved Are gone now from our sight; The old stone well where Jackie fell Is boarded over tight.
Yes, things have changed in Evergreen; The barn, the old hay mow. But I still have my memories; They’re priceless to me now.
