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Weep for the Barns
Silent fortress of the plains:
With solitary windmill soldiers standing guard.
One by one, they fall;
Burned, dozed, buried,
Or left to stand in haphazard rack and ruin.
Their dignity lost.
Ache for the barns.
Soon, too soon, their picturesque silhouettes
Will be no more.
Replaced with the gleam of new,
But lacking character and charm.
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Once they stood in stalwart splender.
Haven and shelter to beast and bird.
Filled to the rafters by sweat-streaked arms,
With sweet meadow hay to last
The frozen, endless winters.
Now they stand empty--silent.
Only the long-ago echo of farm voices,
Children's laughter and lowing of animals remain.
Alone,.......lost.
Meeting fate as best they can,
Not unlike the last old soldier,
On a bench at the edge of the park.....
Waiting.
From Collection of Poems By Former Child of Haddam Pam (Nutsch) Hoge Poet |
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