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WIF
September 20, 2019
I’m from the decaying red barn,
slowly being consumed by plants,
where paint chips crackled with every step I took.
I’m from the simple white farmhouse,
with its creaky wooden floors,
and the archaic moldy basement.
I’m from the pasture surrounded by corn fields,
where the rusted remains of old farm equipment lay scattered the field,
waiting to be found beneath the grass.
I’m from the endless summer days,
nothing to do and nowhere to go.
Each day was a different adventure,
that time was the epitome of innocence.
© Caitlin E., Sammamish, WA
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