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Giving Way

by John Kent
It came up over the hill,
the dairy farm
with the cows out front,
grazing the yellow green grass;
black cows, brown cows, spotted cows,
some chewing,
some down on their haunches, resting
...on sloped fields
that rolled with the highway,
to the bottom of the hill.

It came up over the hill,
every day it did, as I drove by,
when the sun was around,
or the rain gently fell,
cooling the cows.
Then one day...the cows were gone.
After a while, the grass turned brown,
the barn sagged.
In the middle of the field,
where the cows once grazed,
a big sign appeared,
Driving up over the hill,
two times a day,
is not the same...
with the dairy barn gone.

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