Our mind it shall play tricks on us
in a welcome and tantalizing way
the lucky passers-bye who can see
a vision of ourselves playing in the hey
It would appear that we have been here before
in such a place where the dark grows darkest
and bright light filters in between the cracks
guiding ones foot steps that could not resist
The rooster is crowing atop the weather vane
smells of flap jacks, and bacon cooking in the air
moms dishing out vittles with a checkered apron on
our loved one's some here and some gone are there
O' such power does this thing of rotted wood hold
over our wondering, restless, and weathered souls,
to many of whom shall pass it by; just an old red barn,
but us lucky ones are in that field, digging those holes
Inspired by Joseph Anderson
"A Haven From Life's Storm "
Edwin Baldwin
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/that-old-red-barn/
