Beyond the reach of subdivisions
an old barn leans proud,
in the prevailing wind of change.
A legacy of seasons passed, lifetimes spent
Generations of tillers of the soil
and dreamers of the earth.
Now snowfences and crops vanish
Animals live within the margins
like squatters on their own land
Urban sprawl swallows field and wood.
Left are only the echoes of voices in the laneway,
A lonely wind in the pines
around an old barn
On the edge of yesterday.
By Colleen B. Rintoul