Passing Time Poem by Ima Ryma

The farming community came
Together a century past.
A new barn raising was the aim.
A well built structure that would last,
As life on the farm came and went,
As animals and plants would stay
Sheltered within and quite content
In this haven each night and day.
The barn did serve its purpose well.
But came the time no longer were
Any within its walls to dwell.
Time empty took a toll for sure.

Coming soon the old barn will be
Just a pile of wooden debris.