Collapsed Barn

This plywood in its dotage has fallen
in on itself and only the varicose
veins of the nails run along
the epidermis of rotting boards.
Swallows not smart enough to read
theiir eviction notices, still try
to claim their squatter’s rights
in what’s left of the eaves
while out back, frogs try
to clear their throats amid
a skelagtal moon that barely
sheds enough light on the nightly
parade of field mice searching
for a newer, more long-term lease.