Once Upon A Little Farm

A Glimpse Into Our Country Life

Voices In The Wind

Did you ever hear the wind

Whisper as it whirled?

Have you heard it echo

Voices of the past?

The wrinkling rustle of the leaves

Is really Mama hushing baby to sleep.

The creak of the shed door, back and forth

Is just the repetition of teacher and pupil

In the old schoolhouse across the way.

The clang as air wraps around the silo’s ladder

Is really the farmer, calling his herd.

The breeze that rushes around the sill and through the screen,

That’s Grandmother, out the backdoor, emptying the wash basin.

The wind. She speaks.

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