Cleaning out the barn on a windy day that requires gloves and coat
Making it difficult to pick up dropped screws, nails and tacks.
So quiet but the wind outside rattling the large sliding doors
The smell of ghosts of horses that lived here before me
Climbing steep steps to scare Mrs. Mouse hiding in the bubble wrap
Pushing things aside that make memories flood down my throat
Good and bad slowing me down until the sun setting makes it hard
To see that I haven’t accomplished much except make a path through the dust.