The Barn
It stands there
in an empty feild
deprived of laughter and footsteps
upon its boards.
It stands there
looking strong and bold
yet somehow
feeble.
The wind blows threw it's rafters
And tousles the hay
as it was once tousled by the children.
The tireswing
thats tied upon the once strongest rafter
sways slowly
back and forth
back and forth.
Into the past
and back again.
It stands there
so old.
The children are gone,
growing old.
All that's left
are a few strands of hay,
a tire swing
and memories
I will never forget.
C.W
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