On a farm that disappeared

Once
a family lived here
along with their Guernsey cows
wheat fields
acres of soy beans
hen house full of chickens.

Once
children played on a swing
hung from a tree branch
waded in the slow running creek
that ran along the property line.

Once
pies cooled
on the window sill
the radio announcer
gave the noon hog auction prices
the aroma of pot roast
sweet corn, fresh baked bread
filling the kitchen.

Once
Grandpa milked the cows
Grandma hoed the weeds
in the fast growing rows of beans
the peacock chased the old dog
the dinner bell rang every day at noon.

Once
I visited during the summer
helped Grandpa with his chores
played checkers with uncle Fred
in the evenings, when supper dishes
were washed and put away.

Once
my hair smelled of hay
feet of cow manure
face felt warm with love
and the heat of the sun.