Childhood Home Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Turn slowly off from the paved road
Just after you pass the local lumberyard
Keep the motor humming without accelerating.
Stay to the center, away from the deep ditches.

Down a gravel road with wheel trails worn smooth
Swaying wildflowers are seen near wire and post fences.
Metallic mailboxes dot the distance between farmhouses
Bountiful fruit trees strategically guard my childhood home.

Waddling ducks cross the path leading to backyard gate,
While brown and white spotted mongrels wag their greeting.
Mother opens the door, wiping her hands on an apron
'Come in, dinner is waiting.' she said with a broad smile