Whitewashed

The grandchildren call the rural lane
where we live
the up and down road.

At the top
of one of those ups
is this farm house.

Just over that crest
are fields of dairy cows
and two silos.

When Zoe was five
and sitting in the back seat
as we drove past this farm
she quietly said
what are those pencils Gran.

It took Gran a couple more of those
ups and downs
to figure out Zoe was asking about
the tall grain silos
attached to the barn.

Now
every single time
we pass this dear white
springhouse
on the up and down road
we think of pencils…
and Zoe.