The Barn Poem by Craig Turner

Scowl at the moon,
As the tide rides you out to sea,
The blames closer to me,
Remind me where I've been,
From the days i was told to forget,
Putting on two pairs off socks,
To face the cold,
The jaw grinds your teeth away,
As it slips into another day.

I got back to see noone was there,
Swapping sensible for strange,
The car rolls on into the farm,
Forgetting the handbrake.

You said goodbye with a compliment,
A suffice responce to the hello,
Under a breath theres a comment,
Getting washed away as the storm blows.

A goat chews its way through the plans,
You concocted in the barn,
Writing in your mittens.