Old Barns

The old barns lean, creaking to right.

Weathered and dry, their wood color faded.

But once they were sturdy, and strong,

sheltering symbols, of a once rural nation.

Crops planted grew, and harvests reaped

filled silos in co-ops to over flowing.

Handshake contracts bound friends for life

until dust bowls, and banks brought change.

Investments failed, and land stopped producing.

Children left family farms to pursue a dream,

and bills no longer backed by gold, but politics.

Family farms were for sale, to large corporations.

As culture changed, new careers were sought.

Resumes emerged, and traveling families departed.

Extended families fractured, shattered to shards

in search of work, in factories, broken hearted.

New ways of living saw the emergence of

Day-Care, Head Start, and latchkey kids.

While stay at home mothers stopped rocking,

And stormed in to rock once all male boardrooms.

Once upon a time everyone believed hard work was all it took

to place your family in the Norman Rockwell scene.

Now it is only in magazines and books you can find

What every citizen once idyllically treasured.