Old Midwest

[tectak]

Our farm like pa, was young and strong;
the bales were bucked by quaking back.
He worked until his shadow long
had merged inside the dusky black
and golden grains lay sack by sack.
Old willy pulled the plough by day;
at night he ate, and then we'd play-
his treat an apple, or a pear
that mom refused to throw away,
in days of old when life was fair.

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i tried my hand at a dizain, i'm sure the last line is forced but i found myself stuck in a corner, not sure how to do the last line any other way.

Hi billy. I like the form..it's musical. And this poem has the vibe and theme of a folk song (that is a compliment).

I like the poem overall, but I think it would help to tweak the punctuation a little. I have taken the liberty of doing so above (in bold font), and have also edited the last line as ideas for you to consider. Thank you.

.....but if I know billy, he sure don't wanna end up his days in Cliche Canyon!
Best,
tectak