Ancient barns are archives of lives once lived.
Rusty tools that haven't turned a bolt
in decades.
Crooked nails that were straightened with a hammer
and thrown into a bucket for...just in case.
The smell of cow manure, corn shucks, owl droppings,
mold, and thirsty oil cans.
The ghosts of chickens snakes live in the rafters.
And spiders looking for wayward wasps.
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| I took this picture 20 years ago. It's still one of my favorites. It inspired this post. |
Good stuff!
ReplyDeleteLove the photo.
ReplyDeleteAnd the poem.
And never feel comfortable when old barns and the memories they hold are turned into up-market accommodation for people who would have ignored/dismissed them when they functioned as they were designed.
Barns I knew when I was a child are now tumbling. I feel all those words deeply.
ReplyDeleteI never knew but two barns intimately, but this is so descriptive. Thanks my man, I don't know anyone that doesn't love a BARN! Yep, I like it when you wax poetic!
ReplyDeleteSherry & jack
PS: I really liked the "Crooked nails straightened and threw in a bucket, JUST IN CASE."
ReplyDeleteI always have loved old barns. The sight of one along the road makes me wonder what happened and why the people moved away and left it abandoned to decay. There seem to be lots of them around here as many farmers have left for other jobs. And many sell the farm land for their retirement.
ReplyDeleteGreat spider web. I can see why you saved it.
ReplyDelete