Inside the Old Barn

I began my day with a poem (my last post). I’ll end my day with another (this post).

There’s something wonderful about old barns, each satisfied to sit and know, simply know – each a piece of wisdom.

Have you even longed to touch history? You can! Try! Please let me know how you faired.

Image result for old barn autumn

 

Inside the Old Barn

Inside the old barn
where time gathers
shadows, where phantoms

of diligence
still soften the loft
with hay,

brush the muscled flanks
of lost horses,
I go to listen to the wind

seep through
the moldered wood,
soft with rain and age,

and listen to history shudder,
the sweet scent of wheat
and a stray cat

curled in its corner
under a milking stool,
the warmest place it knows.

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6 thoughts on “Inside the Old Barn

    1. Glad you met me in my barn. I say my barn because the poem describes an experience I want to have, Now, having written the poem, lived it via my imagination, I have enjoyed the described experience. Where else does reality beat if not in one’s mind?

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  1. I very much enjoyed your poem. Barns are intriguing and this poem’s focus on the memories in the shadows is beautiful. My mom died 15 years ago and because we have the same build I took many of her clothes. I still wear them and sometimes I’ll find something of hers in the pocket and it feels so comforting to touch her memory.

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  2. I love your imagery in this poem, having visited Grandpa’s old barn and abandoned homestead numerous times when I was a child.
    However, you’ve made one slight error. If there’s any kind of elevation around, even a stool, the cat will be on it and not under it — just on general principle. this is why our recliners and my computer chair are always have cats curl up on them. 🙂

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