barn doors broken from where the wind once bashed,
there used to be love and light and life pouring from those doors.
locked inside the stalls next to sunken straw,
there were ideas and innocence untouched by outside forces.
the red is weathered and the white peeling but
behind those paint fractures lies a life to be remembered.
one call is all it takes for catastrophe to come crashing through,
bashing and breaking the last vestiges of hope held inside a heart.
just one final click and a walk to a barn boarded up and beloved.
its life never to be lived again,
its laughter drowned out by dread,
its love held inside by broken doors and aging boards,
but the light kept inside it continues to shine through the night.
creeping between cracks of paint and climbing through piled up straw.
it stays lit in its remembrance.
done for class.
prompt was: Describe a barn as seen by a woman whose son has just died in a war without mentioning the woman, the son or the war.