The Barn

I come to visit you first each day, before the morning dawn; In Summer its but a short stroll, across the dewy lawn; When the dark icy winds of winter, chill the heart and bones; The light and warmth within you, relieve me from the storm; Your walls block the biting cold, but still I shake and shiver; As sleepily and wearily to my tasks I must now endeavor; Smells of chlorine cleaner, sweet hay, sawdust, and grain, all intertwine; And lay on top of what gets left behind from the behind; Soft sounds of constant clinking neck chains and shuffling bovine hoofs combine; With swatting tails, chewing cuds, and an occasional splat and tinkle; You can hear it all, or none of it, depending on your inkling; Forty years since I visited you last, but always in my memory cast; From a barn I once came and from a barn my life was saved;