Lean into the wind Old Barn,
Passed the rust-barbed wire,
Across the ice field,
Deep in the valley,
In the shadows of the Rockies.
Black bones bare,
The seasons’ scars,
Fresh as yesterday,
Beneath the cold sun,
The door’s heart swings uncontrolled.
Snow piles like memories,
Bending the side,
That has lost its strength,
To fight, to surrender, to succumb,
To a single snowflake.