Gray bones, defiant
against the weather
of a wavering century,
stand proud,
propping the relic—
a shrine to survival
and endurance.
Dusty tobacco,
its earthy cologne,
mingles with notes of manure,
sweat, sod, and corn—
the lifeblood of every aged
board and plank.
Rodent, fowl, serpent, and spider,
the quiet congregation
of this sacred space,
trample the cattle’s communion:
in ritual of peat and shelter,
a haven for tiny players
and hidden lovers,
their secrets stored and hanging
within these true walls.
— © Rick Baldwin
