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.