We often get caught up
In the countin’ that we do
We count cows, an’ bales, an’ acres
Bills – too many, bucks – too few
Should more often count our blessin’s
Calves that lived an’ hay that grew
Memories shared, good times together
Friends an’ neighbours, tried an’ true.
Countin’ was excerpted from Phyllis Rathwell’s book of poetry, Range, Riders & Rhymes.
