There’s an old barn you can see if you look quick
As you fly by
I guess the barn used to be red, but it isn’t any more
It’s a dark dust colored brown
He has almost fallen
But stubbornly refuses to drop
This is a good thing
Because as long as he lasts
The freeway will not have completely won
The traveler can still be reminded
That here, at this very spot,
A horse and a cow lived
A rooster crowed every morning at dawn
To tell the farmer it was time to get up
And tend his crop
The shade from the barn provided a resting place
For some lazy old dog who had wondered to far
From his customary porch
Nearby the rusted out shell off an old flat bed truck
Bares witness to the barn’s testimony
The truck brought hay and grain
And other necessities from the general store
A family was transported across dirt roads
To weddings and funerals
And back and forth to church every Sunday
I bet that I could spend a whole day
There by the barn
Just soaking up all the tales
That I am sure the barn and the truck could tell
But the guy behind me is getting to close to my bumper and I really don’t have the time to stop.
Mikeb