Long ago day on a country porch… cuz
It was too dern hot in the kitchen…
Three generations of women
Surrounded by trees and fields of greens
Snappin a whole heap’a beans…
Swattin at flyin buzzin things…
Laughin big laughs… and
Tellin small lies…
Wavin one hand as the car goin by
Stirs red dirt into the sultry air
Comin from “down yonder”…and
Headin “up ‘ere”…
Touchin giggle tears
With apron hems
Forward thirty years… and
I still see them… although
I’m the only one left…  

All the bean snappin porch ladies
Have gone the way
Of the natural progression of things… but
I can still hear that old screen door slam
I can still hear the old ladies sing…and
I now sing alone,
The hymn they usta bring
“… it’s anotha day’s journey, and I'm so glad, so glad about it… feels so good to be here”