SILO

A slow cool midday trek
speed determined by old legs
through a forest of mixed trees
tall but hardly hoary

No hint of habitation anywhere
no crumbling chimney
abandoned well
teetering walls
or sagging fences

Until topping a small rise
where I espy with aging eyes
a sight that takes me by surprise

A silo

not a sterile Harvestore
of cold blue steel and nothing more
nor of concrete blocks banded
nor poured in place cement

This one aged and empty
built of varied native stone
to a scale that's human
not looming

Kicking nearby duff reveals
a buried barn foundation
its wood gone back to soil
just old concrete and a few rusted nails
of forged form

I pause to think
and the surrounding landscape transforms
trees disappear in reversed growth
fence posts appear and slowly straighten
at last gaining old type barbed wire
which rapidly unrusts
dividing small past lush pastures
where Holstein ghosts graze
until.......
I now stand in midst of a dairy
modest house on the next hill
horses and mules, no tractors

But imagination stops
farmer's family left un-recalled
'twould lead to unwanted questions
Where? did they go
What? happened here
Who? is left of the family tree
Why? did they leave

This is far too lovely a day
for such questions to be queried
So
wanting to retain sunny disposition
and to leave my mind unmuddled
I move on
to keep from thinking

Yet on certain types of days
clear ones when cool winds sway
I return there in my mind
and wonder about that old
silo

* realized it was time for another attempt at free verse................scribbler