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.
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