Old Red Barns

A video of this can be found on my timeline on facebook. This is the script I used, but this blog can't post it because of too much memory. (or something like that.)

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I’ve just written another poem for the purpose of  using it to make a video, editing it, and recording it for viewing. I won’t have my ten-year old granddaughter by my side guiding me this time. This is all in preparation for the projects we intend to undertake this spring. More information about that will come later, but for now I hope you enjoy this poem about something happening in the countryside.

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Friends, those old red barns keep tumbling 

down, and it’s  sad to see them go

They stood muscling their shoulders

against assaulting blizzard winds

that howled and wailed against their walls.

Inside cows stood and chewed their cud

while giving their milk. Here cats  

meow-begged for a milker to squirt

a stream of milk at them. Farmers 

took pride in those barns while their wives 

often said he took better care of it

than he did the house they lived in.

Then times changed, tractors pulled the loads

and horse stalls stood empty.  Stanchions

for milk cows rusted without cows.

Tractors could not enter low door

openings. Little use was made

for these proud out-dated buildings.

Shingles weathered, water leaked in

 starting the slow rot of timbers

and boards. The peak of the roof sagged,

walls caved in, and winds kept wailing

to their predestined victory. 

…….

Some of the old red barns disappear each year. We took them for granted while growing up, but now we note their growing absence on the landscape. They’ve outlived their usefulness. I offer this as a lament. I hope you enjoyed it. Have a good day.