Wood smoke spiraling like India ink
from a log cabin flips back
a page from the past.
Grandma Minnie bowed
over a quilting frame
pieced a Lone Star quilt.
Light ricocheted through
red-checked curtains,
sorghum syrup glittered
like gold on the kitchen table.
Grandpa Bob plowed a cornfield
with mules, raised a big crop.
Snowflakes twirled feathers
across Shewbird Mountain:
hog-killing at Thanksgiving.
Homemade sausage, rendering lard,
hams cured in the smokehouse.
Sunrise to sunset
mountain folks worked farms,
at harvest they held a hoedown
in the old red barn.
by: Brenda Kay Ledford
Published in: Pancakes in Heaven,
November, 2016
Granddaddy Bob and Minnie Matheson Ledford
Hams cured in the Smoke House.
I hope all my blogger friends will have a very happy Thanksgiving with their friends and family!
It is indeed a blessing to blog with my friends. I appreciate very much your visiting my blog and your kind comments.
