The Little Shack Poem by Carolyn Ford Witt

THE LITTLE SHACK

In a little shack down in the hills
Out on the porch they'd be,
This extended backwoods family
That we had come to see.

They'd get out a jug of cider
And homemade cookies from a jar;
The women sat in rockers
While men gathered round the car.

Kids were running barefoot.
The dust clung to their feet.
They wore old cutoff overalls
With patches on their seat.

We'd go there every Summer.
I'd cherish every day,
Because I knew that every time
Their love was spread our way.

Remembering those fun times
Now that age, my life does grace,
Will always fill that little void
That exists within my space.

For every time my mind returns
To that shack down in the hills,
The love that I felt each Summer
Into my heart, still spills.


Author: Carolyn Ford Witt

Ms. Caroline


© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)