Memories of a Small Town

Memories of a small town
lays heavy on my heart
of a day so long ago.

As a boy would go
to grandma's house
and talk with her for hours.

Sometimes for Sunday dinners
or breakfast, she was such
a kind lady to know.

One time she paid me
to kill sparrows,
of which she paid me a dime each.

Sparrows were getting into
her garden and eating
everything.

One day I took my BB gun
and shot some of her chickens,
just to see what would happen.

No harm was done,
so I forgot about
it, until one day,

dear old grandma
made chicken for dinner,
and there was those BB's,

she was very mad at me,
but no more job of
killing sparrows.

Loved this town,
many more things
to tell, but for
now will wait.

wrote 9-24-08

This really happened around 1953 or 1954 in
Grinnell Iowa, I was 10 or 11 years old at the time.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

Poem

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Williams Avatar
September 28, 2008 at 9:01 PM
grew up in a small town so this poem really hit home.
Buys Avatar
September 28, 2008 at 8:53 AM
Made me smile. Such a beautiful visual poem, takes me right back to my childhood and all the silly things we did. Good one. Regards Heidie
Jordan Avatar
September 26, 2008 at 2:47 PM
James - Sounds like the bbs ratted you out bro - My grandmother also raised chickens - Funny how our memories linger isn't it James - God Bless
Strand Avatar
September 24, 2008 at 11:54 PM
So much truth hereJames,please see my latest offering 'IMPRINTS'.Rgds Brian & thanks for your ongoing comments
White Avatar
September 24, 2008 at 7:33 PM
hi james, I used to love to talk with my grandmother, you get such wisdom from your elders, this poem evokes loving memories, great write, and thanks always for your welcome comments, take care D-nyce
Anos Avatar
September 24, 2008 at 7:28 PM
every childhood memory is something i am deeply appreciative, i too was blessed with a beautiful childhood so i can relate. i enjoyed reading this James. Best of days.
Torres Avatar
September 24, 2008 at 3:03 PM
James- Thankyou for sharing those special moments with your grandmas. Ill think of you when I have chicken soup. Very nice poem. Sincerely Michael
Bolton Avatar
September 24, 2008 at 2:45 PM
Heavy on the nostalgia, which I can understand and like . . . The poem read very easily, short lines and likable vision . . . Reminded me of my own grandmother back in Arkansas . . .
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