Our friend Verandah Porche shared this New Year’s acrostic with us. You can also find more of her work here.
For the 52 years we’ve lived here, the barn stood
for everything that mattered: animals named,
tended and eaten, lovers, then children in the hayloft,
plays performed, weddings, and funerals.
We sought advice about saving our loved barn,
but the price was wrong and the livestock were gone.
A local contractor with a crane will finish what
the wind began. And the future landscape will take shape,
for all of us.
2021: NO SALVAGE ONLY SONG
A neighbor’s whip of forsythia
Proliferated. In this thicket, a cardinal
Pivots, chest puffed, barn-redder than
Your heart. Listen for his forked cheer,
Now barely audible under the squall.
Each burst peels the barn from the bird
Who doesn’t waver: no salvage, only song.
You want it over: the shape that sheltered
Every creature, the year we flinch from touch.
After grief, let unroofed heaven gentle down.
Raise sweet corn in the manger. Scatter seeds.