Old Barn

Driving in the car has always been my favorite mode of transportation because I can proceed at any pace;  I might want to stop and photograph a cluster of weeds or cattail clustering along the shore, if they present themselves.  And whenever I drive out into the countryside or across the country, the decay of the past is always evident along the pathway.

As a geographer, I have focused on such phenomena and one phenomenon is the plight of America’s farms and especially the barns.

Splintered Ol’ Barn

Though the little farm has long been gone,
the splintered old barn has stood for years
with birds in her rafters and a tractor, they sit on,
though the little farm has long been gone.
And through the night ‘til the coming dawn
barn owls prey ‘til first light appears.
Though the little farm has long been gone
the splintered old barn has stood for years.

copyright © 2011 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under barn, poetry, triolets

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