Renewal December 5, 2006

12.05.06 We used to play on the old farm, chasing cats and chickens, eating apples and chucking their cores into the beat fields. We'd go into the barn, and jump around in the hay, look at the cow in its stable, swatting the flies with its lashes. We were afraid to climb the ladder into the attic in the barn, not because it was dark up there, but because the ladder was high. We went into the farmhouse, old and rundown, and played with the ancient sewing machine, left all derelict and abandoned. We ran the hall with the specters of the family that lived there, their stove still warm, the house still filled with their toil. We cried when they tore the house down, to make way for a new one.