Ode to a Barn

 The first memory I recall

is watching this barn rise

into a sky where nothing stood,

the nothing there said, “Bye.”

 

What if endless fires raged

and swept the barns away?

Where would we keep our tools and toil?

Where would the critters stray?

 

The first memory I recall

is of our dog chasing a fox.

My father raised his rifle, aimed.

Guess which one he shot.

 

Daniel Scott Tysdal, The League of Canadian Poets, National Poetry Month Archive, Poem in Your Pocket Day, April 2016