- Vol. 03
- Chapter 04
Image by Grant Wood
Prudence and a Pitchfork
We came here to be free, My mother said. They Trekked to this place To farm and to leave me Landlocked. He Took me up. We Persevered and ploughed. I thee'd and thou'd, as expected. He grew spare and dessicated, I was young once and fair Like the old county. I knew how to smile once, Now I am hardly there. You see him, and work And church and barn And sacrifice. My mother said we came here To be free. That did not happen, For her or me.