SPRING MEMORIES (emulate favorite poet contest{ Robert Frost})

I sit on the porch at end of day
as carpenter bees dart everywhere
occasionally sprinkling sawdust here and there
while a lone cow lows far away.
A light breeze keeps evening's bane away.

That cow brings back old memories
of years now locked behind time's door
as if they'd never been before,
when I still had strong straight knees
and still scaled towering oak trees.

Today my ghost drifts to Mississippi
five miles down a dusty gravel road
to an uncle's modest country abode
where he and cousins welcomed me.
We'd visit, talk and simply Be.

And on evenings like this one
we'd watch the corn grow tall and still
while honey bees would drink their fill
as the trees strainded toward the sun
until the day and light was done.

Later in the warmth of dark
a bit before dreams claimed my will
I'd listen to a whippoorwill
repeat his old song, plain and stark
while far away some old hound would bark.
Fifty year yet I remember still.