FARMHOUSE ROOF…RAW, RUSTY.
Farmhouse roof now raw and rusty,
Cornfield, barren, bare and dusty,
Fruits of long neglect droop sadly down;
Black crows calling, stark and jagged,
Cow bones bleaching, dry and haggard,
Grass that once was green now lemon brown.
Cow yards empty, bare and bony
Steel rails frosted , cold and lonely,
Concrete stained with fading memories;
Windmill creaks, arthritic turning,
Fissured mud in hot sun burning,
Rough and rippled bed for fallen trees.
Farmhouse windows, closed and crying,
Wind, through dead trees softly sighing,
Sun sinks low, another useless day;
Sad old scarecrow, stick arms poking
Through the weeds, invading, choking,
Stares out at the future, colored grey.
Dandelions, wind-blown, shedding
Parachutes, prolific, spreading,
Waiting for the time and tide to turn;
Moon glow gleaming, silver beaming.
Sees it with a different meaning,
Shines in hope that mankind yet can learn.
By Grame King