My Paintings

The Old Rusty Bucket

On the dirt road there I stood looking at our old faded barn

Barely standing, the roof caved in, it still had a bit of charm

As I gazed at this image I could hear the children’s laughter

I swear it was coming from inside, high up in the rafters


Suddenly the memory noises got quiet in my head

And one very familiar sound took there place instead

Not far from the barn stood this splintered gray post 

A spigot wrapped with wire barely noticeable to most


The sound was dripping water in an old rusty bucket

So many times my brother and I would have to truck it 

At least four trips a day back and forth to our farm house

Arriving with it half empty and we both would be doused


Author Eileen Clark  2022


10 thoughts on “The Old Rusty Bucket

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