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Old Rail Fence Row

The old rail fence row is jagged and twisting Between the fields now claimed by nature Lie fallow the subject of a realtor’s listing, The old rail fence row is jagged and twisting As I look over the land my eyes are misting, I miss the rustic place of my birth, for sure The old rail fence row is jagged and twisting Between the fields now claimed by nature. written December 17, 2021

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Caren Krutsinger

Date: 12/23/2021 1:29:00 AM

You are masterfully terrific at a triolet; and yet I look every time to see what the style is because I always like them so much.

L Milton Hankins
Date: 12/23/2021 8:11:00 AM

I find them fairly easy, Caren, and I do love the opportunity to rewrite lines for emphasis.

Shirley Hawkins

Date: 12/18/2021 12:18:00 AM

Very nostalgic. There is no going back, is there, Milt.

L Milton Hankins
Date: 12/18/2021 9:14:00 AM

Nope, there isn't, Shirley. On the other hand, I choose to think the future is bright and worth anticipating.

Tom Cunningham

Date: 12/17/2021 2:23:00 PM

As you go through life you build a collection of memories that you reflect on from time to time, but I've found returning to old haunts and seeing changes to those old haunts shatters those memories. Maybe it's because I don't like change. Tom

L Milton Hankins
Date: 12/17/2021 4:01:00 PM

Thanks for your thoughts, Tom. I suspect that most of us don't like change, in part because it shows us growing older.

Gershon Wolf

Date: 12/17/2021 1:04:00 PM

Definitely brings a tear to the eye and a sigh to the heart, Milt. Hard to see the hallowed memories of our youth in disrepair. Age spares neither us nor the split-rail fence. Nice triolet! ~ gw

L Milton Hankins
Date: 12/17/2021 1:42:00 PM

Ah, that is so true, Gershon. Further proof we just cannot go home to our youth. Thanks.

Victor Buhagiar

Date: 12/17/2021 12:41:00 PM

A lovely triolet. I like country scenes very much. You painted it excellently.

L Milton Hankins
Date: 12/17/2021 12:49:00 PM

Thank you so much, Victor. I do, too, and this one is a reminder of home. The house where I was born is long gone, and I hardly recognize the neighborhood. But, some of the old log fences have survived.