Sunday, March 11, 2007

Rural Commuter

There's not much left of the old place now;
The house is there no more.
Junk equipment lays in piles
Where corrals once stood before.
The windmill tower is still in place
But the wheel and rod aren't there.
Nothing but a stump is left
Of the gnarled and ancient Pear.
The old stock tank can still be seen
Piled high with baling wire.
Where once there was an apple tree
Is just a worn out tire.
The garden's just a patch of weeds;
The chicken coop's caved in.
Where used to be a Quonset barn
Is just a pile of tin.
The old home place just ain't the same
As it was in days of old,
The remains have lost their life it seems
They're just so gray and cold.
The neighbor's farms are changing too
The houses are run down
And weeds have taken everything
Since they all moved to town.
The farmers have all left the farm;
They up and moved away.
Most prefer the city life
And commute to work each day.

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