Poem: Almost Picturesque

Almost Picturesque

The sun is bright after two days of rain.
the colors more vivid, even on the barn
with its paint blistered off with age and exposure.
Somehow, despite the scars of time and neglect,
it stands, still strong, still useful,
doors open, waiting for the next work
to come or go as the task demands,
almost picturesque.

About this poem.

I have always wanted to be useful. It’s in my DNA I think, from both my mom and my dad. I have always wanted to be picturesque too, tall, dark and handsome, with the voice of James Earle Jones. That, however, is not in my DNA.

I can live with that.


PS: The picture was taken just down the road and around the corner from my house in West Pawlet, Vermont.

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