A poem from my ancient archives

I don’t remember writing this poem, but I remember when I was frazzled trying to raise a houseful of children.

Bob was always working. Some days he was on the farm, other days he was a mechanic at the canning company. Too many days he worked at both. That left me at home trying to stay sane while caring for our family. I must have written this one on a particularly crazy day.

A perfect mother, I was not.

Here I used writing to cope.

Until next time, that’s all there is from Sunnybook Farm.

Copyright 2022 Susan Manzke, all rights reserved.