Old Barn

Written for:  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/
The images are from last year’s December trip through the Appalachian Mountains of rural Tennessee.  The day was drizzling rain off and on and I was taking the images through the passenger window while my husband was driving.


Weary, my sides ache,
and I am cold–a chill
that remains in my
slats. Surprised
I am still standing?
Well, this is my last
week. Houses going
up; I will be leveled,
along with many of my tree
friends. Ah, but better
in Winter than Spring,
when hillside is in bloom.
No one left to appreciate
the old days.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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6 Responses to Old Barn

  1. Kerry O'Connor says:

    It is sad to see beautiful old buildings torn down.


  2. lynn__ says:

    Gotta love old barns…and your photo/poem!


  3. Here in the southeast, there are a lot of old tobacco barns and I love when a new development goes up and they keep the old barns – refurbish them. Treasure them as part of the history of our area… Yes, your poem reflects the weariness and loneliness of old barns left abandoned.


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