“The Barn”© 2013 by Michael L. Utley On weed-strewn verge of fallow fieldThe barn still stands, a silent revenantOf ages past, a mournful sentimentAmid the dying elms concealed Its boards the hue of ancient bonesThe wind has long since scoured paint awayAs season after season rendered grayOnce brilliant lively crimson tones Dead teasel husks caress … Continue reading “The Barn”