Returning To The Family Farm Poem by Jennifer Parks

It saddens me,
going back to the family farm.
It saddens me to see
the barns,
which were youth's vessels,
falling into sorry states
of disrepair.

They were my vessels,
aiding my escape from an unhappy present;
transporting me to realms
of my own fantasy,
realms where I fit in,
controlled my own destiny,
could be myself.

In those structures
intended for mundane use,
I acted out my dreams;
barns as stages -
animals, my audience.
Teacher, ruler, warrior, goddess;
I became these and more.

I shared my secrets
with the old, wooden walls
and the dust moats,
which floated
lazily in the sunbeams
like legions of stars drifting
on a sea of gold.

Their recesses
sheltered me from storms,
shaded me from the sun.
They hid me from
the critical eyes of my mom,
the constant teasing of my brother,
the world around me.


Now, these old barns,
friends throughout the years of my youth,
witnesses to my change
from girl to woman,
fall in upon themselves;
broken, weathered, neglected,
reclaimed by the land.