That table once held a vase
of lovely daisy flowers,
a basket of corn muffins
and plates with morsels
of food.
Spindly chairs
now collect only dust
instead of the old dirty shirt
that Papa removed
when he came in from the fields.
Mama used to read to us
by the light
of that old coal oil lamp
that hung from the ceiling,
and that's where we did our homework
right after chores were done.
It was a hard life,
but we slept at night
knowing we had done well
and had done our best
at all we did.
It was something
expected of us,
and Mama and Papa
taught us well.
Now dust lies
where our lives once lived,
memories are all that's left
of this old house.
Bronze trophy winner
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