The Wooden Pasture Gate
A worn path leads to the wooden pasture gate.
The water gate, secured with a hook,
opens east to the well by the creek.
In ‘43 mother lay on the bulge of the hill
water pails beside her
hoping her skipping heart beats would still
praying for strength.
In ‘53 her eldest child dances up the incline,
slips through the gate,
swings the two pails of water horizontal
laughing with delight.