Old windmill still beckons
Of decades past it reckons.
A noble purpose it had
Pumping life’s blood water for Granddad.
Livestock would gather day after day
For a cool drink of water it pumped with no pay.
Kids would sneak a dip in its tanks
Or climb its tower and throw water for pranks.
Now arthritic joints moan mournful in the wind
But the lonely vigils Old Windmill still tends.
Its purpose passed on when electric came in.
I pitied the old windmill so near to the end.
Went by old windmill in early morn’s yawn
Suddenly it hit me like the sun’s newest dawn.
Windmill still had purpose as sure as I’m here
And it will continue to its end some year.
Like Mom’s turn to Grand-mom’s the purpose may alter,
Windmill reminds us though through life’s troubles we falter
We can possess artist’s beauty and life’s knowledge we’ll tend,
Just like old windmill a generation gap to mend.
By Dan Fulton 6/17/1990