The sun's hangin' low in the sky
dinner bell says time to wash up,
dig into farm fresh food on the table.
Thoughts of 'Grandma's fixins'
never made anybody late.
Wrapped up in evening twilight;
rockin' and sittin' on the porch,
we wait for any passers by
to say howdy, chat it up a bit,
ask what's happenin' with you.
'Neighbor chat' at day's end
the rural bulletin board for
passin' along updates
'bout what's happenin', who to, and a
bit of everything 'bout what's new.
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