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| The Sad-faced Barn | |
| By Chuk | ||||||||||||||||||
| 24 March 2007 | ||||||||||||||||||
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State of the family farm
There she waits In her abandon. Empty eyes Survey the land. No-one hears Her sad lament Except the swallows And the tattletale wind. Milkweed and thistle Now over-run Floral borders Long untended. Bones of wind A plague of rust Signs of time Left unmended. Once she watched Him wake the sun With clanging pails Asail the night And toil all day Chores seldom done At weather's fail Or end of light. And his wife As strong as he Bore his children And wiped his tears Not long ago Or so it seems They made promise Forever years. To passers-by she's just an ol' farm A run-down house and a broken barn. In their haste They don't see the waste Or feel the pain Of The Sad-faced Barn.
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