There was a barn
raising, once;
horses and cows
snorted and
jostled, once;
hay was baled and
lifted, once;
my father carried me
up the ladder to
the hayloft, once;
I lay on the floor
to fix the oil
leak on the
John Deere, once;
the we regret to
inform you
telegram came to
me there, once;
I lay dying while
they stored my
coffin there, once.
This poem was first (and mostly) published over at nAncY’s Just Say the Word in January. She posted a photograph of an old, dilapidated barn and invited comments in the forms of poems. I added two or three lines to the version above, essentially to round out the idea of encapsulating a man’s life.
I loved this when you posted it a nAncY's and I love it now! :)
ReplyDeleteyes, it absolutely must be a john deere. the word barn...will it disappear and become the word shed...instead.
ReplyDeletei just love barns made of wood.
the feel of the wood with no insulation, the light. they are just plain beautiful.
You surprised me by the coffin...once
ReplyDeleteSo good. . . to read again!
ReplyDeleteAh, familar words, I remember them well. I hope Nancy will do this again.
ReplyDeleteLarry
Wow. Your words touch this country girl deep. (I have a thing for barns.) The whole of it plays like a movie in my mind. How can such few words evoke so much detail? I need to learn this.
ReplyDeleteBlessings.