She never minded
Walking the narrow pathway
to be with daddy.
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For me it was more of a “get in the pick-up and go with me to see how the corn is growing.” 😀
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Ronovan’s challenge: Write haiku using “narrow/minded”
https://ronovanwrites.com/2019/03/25/ronovanwrites-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-246-narrowminded/
About oneta hayes
ABOUT ME
Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
Sweet aroma 
Did you grow up in Iowa?
Liked the poem.
My daughter used to walk miles with me and then she became teen.
Sad when that happens. It is not generally the father who changes. I mostly blame culture and peer pressure. But the good news is that it generally does not last. Daughter will remember where “home” is. No, I’m not a corn husker. I grew up in SE Colorado. Broomcorn was major crop when I was young. Then daddy went to wheat, hay, and corn. Maybe some other things I do not remember.
I been to Colorado but mainly Denver, Colorado Springs and briey to Ft. Collins.
My part of the state was the flat dry lands in Southeast Colo. The high country where you were is where I was hospitalized (Denver) after the crises in Grand Lake/Granby area (high mountains). I blamed the altitude for my blown aorta and heart attack. My sister is going to Denver next week to see another of our sisters. I would love to go but, believe it or not, this old woman is afraid to go again. I think I am being paranoid, but still… I’m not going.
You know yourself best. No point pushing yourself unnecessarily.
From my childhood I am never afraid of dying. It is the half death I fear.
Sweet!
😀 Thank you.