Ode to a Grain Elevator

Silence begets beauty and the view
of a thousand acre sea of gold.
Even when the days are grey,
a beacon within expanse shall you be
and a refuge for the owls.
Tell me, does your dust give comfort
to your mice as it does my mind?

You do not lean in the great prairie winds,
weathered by the pummeling rain and hail,
dressed by the sweet white winter.
The name aside your walls to you a memory,
to me a location of no significance, really,
but you wouldn't understand
as I don't understand your will to stand tall.
Though abandoned in farmer's field,
with every bird you shelter, every creak and moan,
you smile on the knowledge
you see the most beautiful sunsets in this world