This is part 3 of a 6 part series entitled, “A Tribute to Mother.”
T is for Tunes.
Sometimes there was nothing to do but sing. Walking behind the cows in a muddy cow lane on a hot summer day, Mom and I made up a song. There’s one word in it we weren’t supposed to say so when I get to it I’ll say BLEEP.
When you come to the end of a perfect day
And you sit alone with the flies
And you look at the BLEEP on your overalls
And the cowtails in your eyes
And you think of the cucumbers yet to pick
And how low the station pays
And you chew on a stalk of new brown hap
And you dream of better days.
T is for Tunes…
Sometimes there is nothing to do but sing
Sometimes the bleeped out word is the only word that fits.