Eternal Farm Rings

I sat and watched the interweaving bands of silver ribbons on Grandma's barn dance and twirl over the red wooden doors, and gently tap the stained glass windows on the side facing Old Miller's Lane, And I thought I saw the ribbons holding hands as they leaped over the brook, streaming in golden hay by a willow tree where they once swung and played, kissing under the purple snap-dragons in the vase on Grandpa's grave.