In memory I'm back
In my childhood daysFollowing once more
The prairie trails
Hearing the creak
of the Red River carts
As they lumber down Main Street
On their way to the martsDust blows up wildly
As they lumber along
And perched on each cart
Is a driver in song
Singing the songs of the prairie so wide
And the homes far away
The creak of the carts
Grows much louder
As the oxen lumber along
Wooden symphony music
Accompanying the men in their song.
©Martha Freeman 1970
