"Is our house built on an old farm too?"
"Yes," I said, pulling him from the hole,
"Many houses are."
"It's too bad they have to knock the farm down."
"Yes, but some just fall by themselves."
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"Well, I won't knock down any farms to build my house."
"We'll see," I said, starting back toward the school.
* * *
. . . the house I lived in as a boy
was small and white--across the road
from my grandfather's farm: a low
dark house, a dozen saddle-backed
sheds and coops and a huge red-gray barn
that leaned both in and out
held up and pulled down by honeysuckle
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Penn Fires Stiegman; No Successor Named
