Sunday, October 14, 2018

Demise


Elgie Tapp's barn.
  He was a neighbor down from Chicago to central Missouri in the 50's to purchase 200 acres to farm with mules and raise a family.  Refractory clay was found on the land,  and extracted to form four fish ponds (after) and at 20 cents a ton was enough to purchase a tractor and mechanized equipment.

The barn and he are gone now but the structure lasted as long as it could with a compromised roof.
Made of  local oak and nailed when oak was new and soft.  Over the years oak becomes very hard and must be drilled before a nail is possible.

Oddly enough I found a poem about barns:

Barns

What holds up
the toothless barns;
their sun-bleached beams
textured and warmed
to the touch;
alive with memories
and long forgotten hay?

Oh, those winds, do blow
howling through
each opening
trying to force open,
the resistance of owls-
eyes and feathers
softly occupying
rafters without pigeons

You’ve sloped,
here and there,
into the body
of the landscape,
surrounding you

You’ve sheltered
young lovers, vagrants,
and beer-drinking youth
in your senior years
Loyal and steadfastly
upholding your purpose-
refusing to retire

Your beautiful bleached bones
familiar etchings
across lines
where land meets
blue skies-

The sun
sets and rises
around you-
You, that
holds time




1 comment:

  1. There is something strangely beautiful about old barns.

    Years ago my ex and I often talked about building a cabin using the weather-beaten, weather-worn timber from old sheds...the timber that has warped and turned a silvery-blue from its years as victim to the elements.

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