Keep Moving

It’s too late to live on the farm

It’s too late to go back home

Some called it a farm

I never did. It was just home

And there were chickens and sometimes ducks

A big garden to the side and a pear tree out back

I visited it and they were all gone and the space was small

When I lived there I was small and it was very big

Was it a farm? Do chickens and ducks and a garden make a farm?

Or was it a ruse?

But it’s too late to return

Even if these feet never move

I still can go forward.


About Mary (tqhousecat)

I am a wife and a mother of two grown children. Recently I have begun writing a couple of blogs. One poetry and one on hope. I only wish that whoever reads this will be blessed, inspired and occasionally amused. Soon to be added is another blog...writings on hope from a biblical perspective. Now it can be seen at please feel free to visit.
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