• Connie Anderson


No more children playing

In the hayloft,

No horses neighing

In their stalls

No farmers scattering

Cracked corn for the chicks,

No more activity—

No more life.

How many years ago

Did the barn have life?

How many seasons ago

Did a home stand near the barn?

How many fur babies were

Born into this ancient barn?

How much sadness has

The barn watched over?

Abandoned, now it stands

To be captured on film.

Weathered walls leaning,

Straining to stand tall.

The hayloft stuffed with

Unused bales of hay.

Abandoned…until that day

When it was torn down.

–Connie Anderson

Photo and poem


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