Just Poor Folks! Poem by Eric Cockrell
Just Poor Folks!
just poor folks,
living in an old house,
sleeping in a corner
'neath old handmade quilts.
scrubbing scarred floors
with pinesol pride mops....
while the smell of cornbread and
beans hangs in the air.....
stuffing cracks in the windows
against the cold...
kerosene heater,
2 five gallon cans....
a bare light bulb
hangs over the table....
they sit in silence....
reading and thinking...
the old car in the drive,
might crank, and might not....
but that's tomorrow....
and tonite,
they're almost warm!
Reminds me of my farming relatives; they lived so simply in some ways, but I often sensed they were more truly happy and at peace than many of my not so have-not friends and acquaintances.
The warmth is the most important thing to the poor folks as far as a home goes. It is why I'm moving I can no longer afford to pay the electric company for my heat. The prices during the winter time are quite steep. So I will go back to the old fashion wood burner. Because dead wood is cheap and for me on my landlords land it will be free. Great poem eric indeed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 8:50:24 AM # 1.0.0.1119
You've certainly, and tenderly touched a part of Americana, and human soul. Great stuff my friend.