On the edge of the town See the old barn sag With a drop in its ridge Like a sway-backed nag, And the shingles torn By the west wind's will Fly from the skeleton rafters Until You may count its starved ribs, One by one; Old barn, old horse, Your day is done. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD OF THE GIBBET by FRANCOIS VILLON MY COMFORTER by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE OWL CRITIC by JAMES THOMAS FIELDS HEAVEN-HAVEN; A NUN TAKES THE VEIL by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS HARVEST MOON: 1914 by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 14 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |