Weathered
I’m amazed how
when I stand in
the shadow of the
old tobacco barn,
it still holds the
smell from years
of use. One deep
breath, and I’m
back in the field
running barefoot
with my cousins
and the barn is full,
drying out the leaves.
Waiting.
Hanging.
Seasoning.
All in due time.
2 thoughts on "Weathered"
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Mmm, the feel of summer
You have to be right there to know how perfectly these words depict one of Kentucky’s treasures.