It Felt Like Play
A naïve and simple way to make money,
Following my brother early to the fields.
Those cool mornings, fresh air and the country.
Gathering mushrooms, each day a good yield.
Or mild February evenings after school,
Blackberries, rich pickings filling our buckets
Every contribution, though miniscule
Would add abundantly to our comforts,
When needing school books, a new pair of shoes.
Growing wise when seeking out our markets,
Approaching neighbours, teachers; none would refuse.
No bother to return to them full baskets.
Oh naïve and simple life, not for today.
A more gentle economy, it felt like play.
Benita H. Kape © 8.4.2015