KARI TAI

The Tosh Barn

Soft meadow grasses trace the barn’s
cedar walls kissed a soft pewter
by years of peace-dove rains.
Rivulets chased rivulets down the grains
raising ridges
as rough as the years gone by.

Standing proud in abandonment,
doors shuttered, barely holding back
memories of bolts of horse power as
muscled stallions rippled across the field
crushing yellow flowers beneath their hooves.

Sun streams through the slats
and a sweet grassy smell steams out
as lovers roll in the hay.

A woman ponders her place in this world
with her forehead pressed into the cow’s hide
as she works rhythmically, time passing in a trance.

The barn, its peaked roof parting daydream clouds
rooting us to everything we share
sun, wind, and air.

Nothing is new under the sun
Nothing is new under the sun
except the dark olive leaves rustling applause
outside the barn.

A visual touchstone to
Redmond’s past,
everything is new under the sun.