By Janet Fagal
Central New York Branch
This poem was inspired by “Urban Edge,: oil on linen, an abstract piece by Linda Bigness-Lanigan, longtime CNY Branch arts member.
Memories of long summer trips spill effortlessly,
blending with now, and poetry.
We watched farms roll by, some barns glistening,
newly painted, buffed and beckoning.
Others, tattered. Their peeling paint bled
red streams of tears empty with loss.
Weedy paths reached toward broken steps.
Could this one work he’d ask?
Citygirl’s eyes peered anxiously.
“For sale signs” everywhere. She imagined
pure loneliness, no friends, cows mooing.
Chickens. Topsy-turvy fears cascaded.
Her parents mused “a better life,
return to the earth,” simpler ways.
Citygirl saw nothing but dirt,
quiet, misery. Endings.
On a hillside, something seemed to call her.
The gleaming yellow barnhouse sat proudly.
Whispered. Follow your path.
Return.
Citygirl saw only limits then,
her mind clung to the familiar.
Curious, her eyes and heart lingered,
watching a golden barn, on a hill. Calling.
Thank you for your comment, Mara. Ah, the journey. Sometimes we end up where we are almost as if by accident and unless we are forced or choose to re-locate once adults we may have a better chance to learn about the beauty of our “neck o’ the woods”….which has luckily happened for me and one can always visit home wherever that might be. I was quite young throughout those days of summering in the country all over the US and while I doubted we would ever re-locate, my parents had a “wanderlust” and were rather creative thinkers. But I am glad that it worked as it did for me, recognizing that so many never have that opportunity.
Thanks for sharing this poem. It drew me into the thoughts and feelings of citygirl.
I wanted resolution. Perhaps in a other poem…
Ah, I left it very open-ended. With a hint that she does return. And I did. I like the idea of another poem to add to this story!! Thanks for commenting, Pat.
WHERE I LIVE, I’M SURROUNDED BY BARNS. LOVE THEM.
NICE POEM. THANKS FOR SHARING.
Thank you, Barb. Yes, barns near me now, but I did grow up in a suburban area and did go traveling with parents who were often “looking” at for sale sides. Linda’s gorgeous abstract barn paintings intrigued me. There is something beautiful in barns and I love to see them looking tended, though I know times change. Thanks for your comment.
Janet,
You have our hearts lingering too in the golden aura of your barn. This poem calls for forward movement by returning us to a pivotal moment.
Thank you!
Claire Massey
NLAPW Poetry Editor
Thanks for your comment, Claire. Sometimes our experiences, maturity and/or circumstances help us to change our mind about things we were earlier unsure were right for us. This is a semi-autobiographical poem. Ironic but still a testament to change and perhaps acceptance. Not all of us are so lucky to find a place we love.
Love this poem💕. The grass may be or is greener on the other side of the fence! Great yearnings never end. Live your life as the paths wind and twist. It is the trek that keeps us hiking! Focus on Something bright yellow, full of hope and dare to just do what your soul tells you to do! Stop looking at the rocks and weeds and ruts along the way! They are there, but you can overcome them all! A better person for it.
Adventures await you!
Thank you, Shelley, for your thoughtful comment. I appreciate hearing your reaction and that you loved my poem. That always makes a poet happy! And this is semi-autobiographical since I did indeed grow up near-ish to NYC (by train) and have lived truly upstate since college, so most of my life. And while I miss the aspects of “home” and the vibrancy, I have come to love the country. And the journey. I know I am lucky.
Lovely poem, especially the last two lines . Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Diane. I appreciate your comment and glad you like those two lines, too. It was always interesting that pull I felt toward the beauty of the countryside, and other parts of this great land (and despite our truly difficult times, I believe we are a great country with some warts, but those give us opportunities for growth….) despite wanting to go back to the comfort of the familiar and what I was used to in a sleepy suburbia. I love living near the country, basically in it a couple of miles from our little village. I would have loved to renovate an old barn, too. You’d like Linda’s painting I bet.
One always sees a different life or different journey as an ideal. Perhaps it’s a unfulfilled vision or dream? This is the feeling I get when I read this poem. Life is a journey with many pathways. Some are ideal for some, others are not so inclined. It’s a momentous undertaking and I see her quandary. So fitting for our times but hasn’t it always been so? Thanks for sharing.