(photograph: Lorri Arndt)
When I see barn doors open
I imagine who or what’s
been in or out.
The dark inside
a mystery to ponder.
This one yawns as if
an invite to warmth
and closeness of a kind.
Makes me dream of
straw possibilities that
someone’s lain in.
Deserted or forgotten
it’s hard to tell which.
Perhaps a farmhand dozes
or a girl’s gone out on chores
to fetch the cows home
after school most likely.
But today there is time
to think about the openings
of a life that moves so
slow and care-less
till one no longer knows
the facts of scenes
like this one.