The Boys of the Levee

And, well, Willa and Taylor, they took off to the barnyard, probably herding the chickens, and we all felt the warmth of friendship as Paul picked at the banjo on the trolley down the road. Our family, together, once again. And, Ma, she wore her best pressed navy blue linen dress, and my father, Paul, his best green cotton flat shirt, and as we sat in the back pew of the little church on the hill, and we were reminded that no matter how hard the journey, that something good always came along, you just had to not stop believing.