The Outhouse on the Hill

Though just a child of long ago
I remember still
The narrow crooked rocky path
And the outhouse on the hill
It creaked and groaned against the wind
And possessed an awful smell
Yet stood tall and proud beneath the trees
And served its purpose well
I like the comforts of today
And know I always will
Yet sometimes think of yesteryear
And the outhouse on the hill

Sandi Staton