A Country Store

 

 

A small sign on the windowpane,

Said “Closed”, they’ve moved away,

They closed the store, seems years before,

It’s seen its better day.

 

An “open” sign, rest on the ground,

No longer has a use,

Time and neglect, so obvious,

It suffers from abuse.

 

Was once a thriving, country store,

Now stands, dilapidated,

That times have changed, things rearranged,

Cannot be understated.

 

The main highway, six miles away,

Sells gas that’s ten cents less,

Stocks items at a lower price,

Which speaks of our progress.

 

But is it really progress when,

You can’t get local news,

A place to sit and chat a bit,

And hear your neighbor’s views.

 

Where you can charge, till payday comes,

And play a game of checkers,

Where you can buy, hand dipped Ice cream,

Perhaps a double decker.

 

Warm yourself, a cast iron stove,

On cold, wet, rainy days,

Tell a joke or brag a bit,

In friendly, sorts of ways.

 

No, once they’re gone, and they’ve moved on,

Then there won’t be no more,

Nothing else, can ‘ere replace,

That good, old, country store.

~~Ron Bliss  ·