By Pete Tucker

Vacated stanchions
That morning held sway.
Years of work
Were simply whisked away.

One by one
The cows were sold.
It hardly seemed real
Truth be told.

The auctioneer’s gavel
Again pounded the block.
Trucks out the lane
Pared our dwindling stock.

What would we do
The very next day?
Our lives being changed
In  profoundest way.

My kid-like mind
Tried making sense of it all.
I had trouble grasping
Each empty stall.

What had we accomplished
Over these toilsome years?
We worked to a fever,
At times, fought back tears.

The barn was then silent
At the end of the day.
A long chapter ended,
Cows all hauled away.

I know the folks pondered.
Should this have been the way?
But our cards had been dealt.
Who was to even say.

Harbor not bitter memories
As the final gavel struck.
Tomorrows will be easier,
A welcome change of luck.