memories up in smoke

 

Out-dated landmark peeling red paint, 

the wooden corn crib burned down late 

on monday morn after holding ripe ears of 

harvested gold, countless kernels of many

hard-working years. Could say it was arson

by the farmer and his son who poured on 

gas until the flaming roof fell in at last and the

surrounding snow dissolved into nostalgic tears.

 

 

 

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