Old Timbers Laugh

The old barn stood there, quiet and empty.
Weathered from many years of snow storms, and summer heat.
But it was more than, just an old barn to me.
The summer days, my sister and I would play hide and seek,
and laugh until we were weak.
Then fall across the blanket,
we had laid across the hay bales planned for a picnic.
I stand here, flashing back to those good old days.
I can still hear our laughter bouncing off the old timbers.
©Linda J. Wolff 2017 – http://www.urbanpoetry2017.com
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Linda J. Wolff is an interurban word spinner and extrovert through many coffee-stained papers and owned by Rookie the hyperactive Pomeranian dog at Urban Poetry.

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