The Hampshires ( A Short Poem by James J)

In the Hampshires a young boy rides his bike
The rickety spokes keep turning tire tread
On the pond a fowl paddles soft and slow
Raindrops ease down the withered clock tower

In the Hampshires an old man sits quite still
The crumbling stairs support his whisky cup
The barn hides rats in its dark wooden walls
The wind carries the scent of a deep rain

In the Hampshires an old dog lays restless
A velvet chair holds his dusty worn bones
On the sill a crow awaits its next meal
Echoes as soft as a whisper are heard

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