Chad

The man on the porch,

When I opened the door to exit Pete’s abode,

There stood Chad,

No bell rang,

Still there was Chad,

Nearly clipped him with Pete’s door,

You can walk through Pete’s door,

It hasn’t glass,

There’s no light on the porch,

As I was backing down,

Chad gave commentary,

Telling about a lady he knew who did that and fell and broke her back,

Going up I had to almost crawl,

The steps are high,

But I made it,

Made it home,

Pete told me he has all his holidays alone,

Only one of his eight lives in Iowa,

Two of his sons are coming tomorrow to take out his air conditioning,

It was a lovely day,.

It was a good meal,

I drank southern sweet tea,

Penny and Sherry both like it,

Its not too bad,

All his floors are like my kitchen floor,

Woodish stuff stuck in the floor looks like real wood,

A Confederate flag hangs over his hall door,

His home is clean and neat,

Still he apologized for it not being perfect,

He daid his people were Irish Catholic and German,

They settled in the south,

They were loggers ,

None had slaves,

The blacks that worked at his family”s mill were free men,

He says his not ashamed that he is from the south,

Not is Pete ashamed if the flag good people fought and died for,

I told him my mom:s family had family that fought on both sides of the war,

It was a nice holiday,

He is a good guy,

Pete the jury is still out in Chad,