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1 May, 2013

Father, dear Father.  Dear!

Sadly I fear

that the pigs have broken the fence again

and have tracked about mud from the recent rain

upon the porch where Grandpa sits

and have upset the copper in which he spits!

To make matters worse they’ve trampled Mom’s bed

of flowers and ferns and left them all dead,

or dying at least

of hoof disease,

and rubbed abeam of the new whitewashed shed

posting earthen stripes of brown and red.

Not only that;

They squashed the cat!


From → Stories & Poetry

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