Gert Strydom

Gold Star - 15,978 Points (03 April 1964 / Johannesburg, South Africa)

The Barn - Poem by Gert Strydom

The smell of baled cut hay,
cut cornstalks, fuel from drums
the hot tractors cooling down
and in the semi-dark the hoard
of farm implements,
with a cold cement floor
under your bare feet,
to me it was like Aladdin’s den
a place where useful magical things
of great value were stored.

Topic(s) of this poem: farm

Form: Prose Poem


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 17, 2015



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