Egg Money

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Published, MSPS Anthology
On the Edge Chapter, 9/2012

They
             sat on the
          back porch, in
      crates, destined for
    market.  Grandmother
  carefully hand-washed &
 dried each egg.  When she
had  tallied  several  dozen,  
they were taken to the store 
in  town, which also passed 
as gas station & post office.
 For her, it was a bit more
   than a  trip to sell eggs;
    it was a time to visit,
      gossip & perhaps 
         choose a new
              broom.

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Daver Austin

Date: 8/8/2014 10:24:00 AM

Love this poem about just plain folks stuff. That's about all I write these days. Love, daver

Lyn Murray

Date: 7/31/2014 7:36:00 PM

Reminds me of my grandmother and days gone by. Beautiful memories. Lyn

Cona Adams
Date: 8/1/2014 7:59:00 AM

Thanks, Lyn. The shape of the poem (an egg) didn't translate to the site, but thanks for reading and commenting. Yes, sweet memories.