Great Uncle Sid

By John I. Blair

I barely recall Great Uncle Sid.
He died when I was very young
And he had gotten very old.

Blue-striped denim overalls,
Grizzled stubble on his chin,
Straw hat with a ragged brim.

He lived in a tall white country house
With a sunny winter kitchen, but
The upper floor kept dark and cold.

Beside the sagging dairy barn
An empty farmer’s wagon stood,
Fading green with yellow trim.

Lamplit stalls of quiet cows,
Foamy milk in a zinc-lined pail
Watched by cats, hungry, bold.

A bullsnake on a pasture path
Scared me, but Uncle Sid replied
I’d be safe if I walked with him.

I barely recall Great Uncle Sid.
He died when I was very young
And he was very old.

©2006 John I. Blair