Walking Sticks

Fri, 06/29/2018 - 12:05 -- Kacey59

Out in the woods

We chopped limbs down.

We sanded them smooth

For hours on end.

 

We sealed them all

So they would last 

Through hikes, rain, and wear.

The memories lasted too.

 

Together we made twenty-four

That spring in the garage.

They were all beautiful

And shiny in the sun.

 

You remember those late evenings.

We kept one each.

Both sit near the door

Waiting for us to go explore.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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