Throwing rocks as small boy, neighbor kids had their fun,
Can't hit the broadside of barn, the chant went.
Might've been right, even inside, had trouble getting it done.
Time rolled along, the downhill, carried a camera, not a gun,
Tried to tell stories, document how the times spent.
Looked for character, setting, plot, conflict, resolution.
Lot of things go on, out at the farm, in the fields, under the sun,
Night, after sundown, it was like all lived in the same tent.
Chores, milking, meetings, dances, smiles, experience by the ton.
Life goes along, under rafters, paint loosens, cracks in the long run.
Photos we took, had stories their own, some just like we meant.
On balance, broadside we hit, inside and out, no trouble, got it done.
___ Rob Carrigan
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