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