The old barn remembers
when it knew the comings
and goings of all the farm animals,
the smell of wet hay under the cow's
feet
and the mews of the cat
wanting warm milk,
the steam from the horse's soft
nostrils
on cold winter mornings
and in summer the laughter
of children moving hay bales
in the mow to make a maze,
in later years, the smell
of diesel and oil mixed with dirt
around the truck and tractor,
the sound the skip-loader made
as it mucked out the pigs' pens,
or the scurrying of mouse feet
racing from the silo with discarded
corn.
Abandoned now, the roof sags,
the wood has weathered gray,
dust motes float in the sun rays
slipping through the chinking,
the metal door hinges squeak needing
oil.
The barn doesn't know
how much longer he'll be able
to stand it. He's waiting,
once more to hear the soft words
of lovers meeting in the mow.
There is only the echo of memory
to keep him company.
Today's poem was written for Jane Yolen who shared a poem about a barn this week. She didn't have hay in her poem and I commented on that. She responded, it had been a long time since hay was made in her barn. I suggested she needed to write a poem from the barn's point of view and Jane said that was my poem to write. So I did.Your challenge for today is to take an object and write your poem from the viewpoint of the object. Have fun writing.
The Poetry Friday Round Up is hosted this week by Margaret Simon on her blog Reflections on the Teche. Thanks, Margaret for organizing us this week.
Writing a children's poem is like dropping a pebble into a pond, you never know how far the ripples will go.
