For years now I’ve been watching the barns disappear.
Red Barns faded to pink and then they weathered gray.
The side boards rotted and fell away.
Roof shingles blew off. Moss carpeted what was left.
Open spaces appeared where there were once doors and windows.
Swaybacks marked the countryside.
As the barns went, so went the homesteads.
Rusted relics marked where life had flourished.
And at the end of the day, nobody cared.