I like to see old barns. They remind me of my youth and the carefree days of summers long ago. The old barn where we played and where we worked . When I See old barns I remember the smell of fresh mowed hay, the smell of the milk cows when they came in from the field. The sights and smells of long ago are with me now when I gaze on an old barn vacant and still. Patsy
Burkholder said it best.
by William Burkholder
Old Man Calling
Still standing,weathered and kanted.
A thousand winds could not topple this old man.The keeper of Hay, and apples, vinyard concorde,Purple.
Sweet days of buzzing things,The pungeant aroma of grain freshly threshed.The scythe is rusted and tired now.
Percheron brethern,buried and memorialized just behind him.
Leather tack, hung for the last time,no one remembers when,