Where corn grows ready waiting the harvest
and granaries are tall white towers
stretching upwards into bright skies.
Where trees, large and twisted
their bark like wrinkles baked in the sun,
with heavy foliage on hanging branches
bow low to the ground now covered in leaves,
and busy little squirrels scurrying around.
The sound of trains rumbling down the tracks,
the blast of a noon day whistle heard,
with the semis and tractors sharing the road
between quaint shops that line the street;
a bank, a post office, grocery and gas pump.
Are all beginning to feel more like home.
_________________
Joyce E. Mannhalter © Oct. 2018
Welcome to my website. I have a variety of just about everything here; poetry, prose, essays, fiction and inspirational stories. I hope you enjoy your reading experience . Thank you for visiting, and I hope you will stop by again. I love meeting new readers, followers and bloggers. Leave a comment if you like. All are appreciated. 
