Poems by John Goodie

Grandma‚Äôs Biscuits Flour dust on her wrinkled hands, and apron Silver gray hair pulled into a bun, on top her head Back door open, screen door with a torn screen, lets in flies Spring flowers blooming in the yard, the yellow daisies Honey on the table, butter in the dish, same table Smells of the … Continue reading Poems by John Goodie