The Old Red Barn Poem by L MILTON HANKINS
The Old Red Barn
The old red barn once stood proud
Against the storm, paying
Its own way with the Mail Pouch
Sign, brimming with hay
It staved winter's starving chill
A vanguard of stubborn will.
But now the storms have racked
The bones and flailed the bloody flesh
Torn away the shingles and
Raked across the giant yellow letters,
Letting in the cold and bitter air
Left the rubble for the vacant stare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/5/2024 10:37:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
