Terri L. French

Stable

The barn might collapse if it weren’t for the ivy. Growing up and around the rotted wood, through the windows of the hay loft, around the empty grain silo. Would take a mighty strong gale to bring her down. I think of the hands that raised her and wonder if those men would be proud to know she stands as a part of this community long after they are dead and gone.

winter rye
a whinny carried
by the wind

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About the Author

Terri L. French is a poet/writer and retired Massage Therapist. She and her husband, Ray, have four mostly grown children and one spoiled dog. They now enjoy the nomadic life of full-time RVers.

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