Days Gone By…#338

We were poor, but the world of a child knows no rich 
or poor.   My daddy was a Sharecropper, my mother 
worked in the cotton mill making thread, Ma who was
 well into her eighties crochet doilies, my sister was 
going to marry a young soldier, and me…I ran barefoot  
in the cotton fields and roamed the caves in the bluffs
 of Burleson Mountain near our house.

My heart sometimes aches for those times, the tarpaper 
shack, the little white church on the mountain; and the 
innocent days of yesteryear.  They are all gone now, 
only I remain with the memory of those long ago days. 
However, I find that I can return at any time and stay as 
long as I want.  Memories never grow old.

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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9 thoughts on “Days Gone By…#338

  1. I quote, “ I find that I can return at any time and stay as
    long as I want. Memories never grow old.”
    Yes, it is true that you can ‘RETURN’ (as Jews says it) any time… But instead of memories I suggest use ‘the soul’ or ‘the spirit’ because only these are eternal.
    The one who remembers the childhood, teenage, youth, grown up is not memory but the soul.
    The movement can be recorded against a constant. The soul or love or beauty are names of the constant and the eternal. We forget a person’s name then who searches and where? It is not remembered! so it is not in the memory.

    Liked by 1 person

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