Ancestry . Barn

Every poet of
childhood on a farm
will keep coming back

Every dust mote from the 
straw and hay filled with DNA
and stories they are charged to tell

Red walls and black roof
and click of cow and clydesdale hoof
and every caution that their father taught 
no amount of city money could have bought

Hail and drought can wipe crops out
but not barn memories whispering for a shout

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