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Winter at the Barn
Bright in the winter, the frigid snowflakes fall
The frozen branches of the pine trees stand ever so tall
Crisp and cool air stings the faces of children near by
The loud chirp of a seagull descends from the sky
The ever so loud voices of the people inside,
Are nothing compared to the waves at high tide
Sand on the beach has frozen in time
Making the trek up the stairs a more difficult climb
The wood of your solid frame creaks and crackles at night
Pine trees outside your windows begin to shiver in fright
If you could speak, you would sound calm and serene
With a jolly low tone; energetic, never mean
I ask you, do you tire of hearing obnoxious, loud chit-chat?
As your swing creaks from age, where so many people have sat
You taste natural and organic, like fresh pancakes on a bright Sunday morn
I feel the seams of your couch, where the fabric has worn
The snow beneath my boots, ever so cold, yet tremendously comforting
The aroma of pine envelopes me as a bird takes wing
Through the screams and the whistles, and ever-present bird calls,
There is silence when the snow falls
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