A Lifetime

A rotted old house deep in the South Was where I learned to shut my mouth And keep my stockings high and my hems low And take care of babies and learn to sew And the very first thing I stitched together Was made of cotton that had heathered Was a pair of pants like my Papa wore “For wearin’ ‘round the house!” my Mama swore When I was ten I was grown enough To wear layered dresses and shoulder puffs To gussy up when I went out for a walk And to court a man with dainty talk I got old enough to leave the nest And my Papa found one out in the west A farmer’s boy with corn agrow And I didn’t care enough to say no Six babies to him I gives Ain’t none of which who lives I didn’t much care for them anyways But now he works much longer days But when he’d come home and go to bed I’d creep around the dark farmstead And saddle up his horse to ride I felt like such a man astride He done worked himself to death On that horse he drew his last breath The preacher offered three hundred And my horse and I were sundered Now as I sit, old and gray I think about the final day And maybe the Lord will let me be Out of these bones and finally free.