Saving Grace In Butler Missouri

I watched the rain come down.
I found a penny in the parking lot.
I felt the sun part the clouds.

I walked up town for bread.
I stopped and played a game of snooker.
I even had time for a haircut.

I watched the sun go down.
I laid on the ground and looked at the stars.
I felt that cool summer night air.

I smell fried chicken cooking.
I can hear my mother voice calling.
I see my Dad round the corner in his pickup truck.

I bowed my head while Dad said grace.
I ate a chicken leg and mashed potato’s.
I drank cold brewed ice tea.

I watched Disney that night.
I saw old Davey Crockett at the Alamo.
I felt the cool sheets on my skin as I went to bed.

I got my drivers license and went on a date.
I took her to the drive in.
I walked to the door and she kissed me.

I waited for my friend in the drive way.
I went fishing and came home with a stringer full.
I took a bath and ate pork chops and a salad.

I joined the military and almost fainted.
I came home without a scratch.
I went to Church that Sunday.

I woke up this morning.
I have three grandsons.
I am retired and a long way from what use to be home.

I watch the news at night.
I watch the sun go down again.
I don’t lay in the grass anymore and look at the stars.

I miss summers standing in the rain.
I still look for Dad’s pick up truck.
I try to find that smell of fried chicken in the evening air.

I bounce my grandson on my knee.
I kiss my daughter goodbye and go home.
I watch my wife as she tells the boys goodbye.

I smile a little more now than I did then.
I hold on to those things from the past.
I seem to never let it all go.

I reach out and my wife gives me my pills at night.
I pet the cat and watch the news.
I go to bed and thank God I am still alive.

I remember all my friends.
I sometimes talk to them every now and then.
I never go home because it is not there anymore.

I ate fried green tomato’s last night.
I had fried chicken and mashed potato’s.
I kiss my wife good night.

I thank God I am still alive.
Then I go to sleep.



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