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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.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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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
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Date: 7/31/2014 7:36:00 PM
Reminds me of my grandmother and days gone by. Beautiful memories. Lyn
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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.

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