Weathered with Age, a poem

weathered (3)


The barn sits in the corner
Of the property
Sloped roof, full of snow
The paint has worn thin
And what once shined brightly,
Is now a dull gray with age.
My, how things change. . .
The wind whistles eerily
through the wood siding
and though I am alone,
the past whispers
grainy voices from another time
and I sit facing the window
morning coffee in my hands.
The barn leans slightly to the left
and I can’t help but wonder –
what will happen in time?
What will happen –
When the walls no longer hold
And gravity pulls my faded memories
Down – like a stack of blocks
No testament to the hours
I have spent building them up
No song shall remain
Of what I have done
And I can’t help but wonder –
What will happen in time?
When my own walls
Come crashing down.

© Sumyanna 2016


Submitted for The Daily Post Prompt: age

Image courtesy of


8 Comments Add yours

  1. It is interesting to reflect on the limited nature of things, Sumyanna.


    1. Sumyanna says:

      I think it just reminds us to cherish the now. At least I hope so!


  2. Reblogged this on Covert Novelist and commented:
    Such depth Sumyanna! Simply exquisite!


    1. Sumyanna says:

      Thank you so much for sharing Phyllis!


      1. So perfect, how could I not?


        1. Sumyanna says:

          🙂 I’m blushing.


          1. Awe, well no need because you really are an incredible soul, it shines out of you like a ray of sun.


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