Dad’s family at homestead. My sister Betty in front.

(Click on photos to enlarge.)

The first photo is of my grandparents and two aunts and their families. The third photo is my dad and his cousins, my grandmother Jane and her sister Susie and my oldest sister Betty Jo as a child.

The Old Homestead

Its barn is thick with echoed thrust
of wings long faded into dust.
The barn owl hunts no rodent ghosts,
no drumming wings the still air boasts.

Those boards you walked now topped with blooms
of mildew, mold and wild mushrooms
that cling and spread and flood the room
with peaceful quiet and sombre gloom.

What footfalls that you might have made
are soon absorbed and so they fade.
Your presence, vital long ago
barely interrupts the flow

of time that passes here so slow.
No lowing cattle, no rooster’s crow.
No bleat of lamb, no donkey’s bray.
All that once was has passed away.

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 590 the prompt words are: barns thick clung topped blooms walked spread drumming faded hunt peace floods