Old People like Old Barns



This poem emerges from a recent conversation with my dear friend Linda in which we commiserated and celebrated our entrance into the stage of The Velveteen Rabbit, scars and bald spots our glorious trophies. Especially the inside ones. Enjoy.


Old people like old barns
Lure light through weathered
Planks in sagging frames.
It spills in speckled streaks
Onto the foundations of their souls
Where young visitors can sprawl
And play at life.

© Rita h kowats 12-2-16








Photo credit: Rebecca Staebler http://www.hubbubshop.com

12 thoughts on “Old People like Old Barns

    • Gratitude, Jen. I’ve been writing in earnest for five years, but have dabbled since high school. I love the challenge of getting down to the bare bones of an experience and the adventure of expressing it in a nutshell. I can tell you also relish that.


  1. would you mind me posting this, with proper credit of course, on my Facebook page. It really speaks to me and I know it will to several others. Beautiful, real and true analogy! Blessings my friend! You are loved and admired!


    On Fri, Dec 2, 2016 at 9:05 AM, Spirituality Without Borders: Reflections


  2. Rita,

    Right on! Thank you for saying from the depth of your contemplative heart!

    Love you and praying that Advent is all that you need at this time!

    Miss seeing you and hope you can make it to Rita Phillip[s on Dec. 10? Is that the right date?

    Holed N0ora in prayer as she prepares for knee replacement on Jan. 17 and I’m alwso scheduling lumbar surgery sometime soon also!

    Love you always.

    Mary Pat


  3. Thanks for this, Rita. I have a photo I took several years back of our old red barn, also with many spaces now for the light to shine in. Actually now the barn is torn down–I’m glad I got the photos when I did. I have so many memories from being in that barn when it was still tightly enclosed and had the warmth and smell of the cows, horses, and pigs, as well as baled hay and loose oats. It aged and fell apart and I witness the same happening to me. Ah, but what powerful memories. Polly


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