Sunday Evening

In the old childhood days

Home was always filled 

With music, every room,

He even put speakers in the

Greenhouse he built 

For our mother

To help her through

Long Nebraska winters.

Now, the snowing early
Spring fights the season

And I dream of my gardens

While the rest of the world 

Tills, preps, and readies for 

The growing, but 

My house is filled 

With music.