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The Harvest Ended

Foulkes Barn wc

Field untended stretching far and wide

Weed and brier thorn choking once rich soil

Once red barn becomes destruction’s bride

Long gone the caring hands which used to toil.

 

Shining metal tools unused lie bent and rusted

Machines to plant and harvest now half buried lie

Once full silo now bent as old man in decay crusted

Withering and broken the empty house left to die.

 

Miles of white fence now fallen with gate unhinged

Trough and feed bin toppled nothing left to feed

Bales of hay left unused turn to dust as though fire singed

Devoid of cow or goat or pig, they are but things without need.

 

Once adored and well kept family farm providing food

So easily becoming fodder for new home or bargan store

What used to feed and nurture life our care no longer endued

Lay in ruin, plowed asunder, leaving just a shadow, nothing more.

Karen Quinn 2013

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