North of Miller on 45 there is little to see on either side,

So what captured my interest on this prairie drive?

The skeletons of houses stand there alone.

What struggles of life they must have known?

I stop the car on the side of forty five,

to look at a farm that once was alive.

Farms need people to work the land

but I see none from where I stand.

Then the windmill’s sound says to me.

“Come up here I need some company.”

With uneasiness I approach the windowless home,

Then the prairie wind whispers “Leave us alone".

You were not here when we were real,

so what thoughts of us could you feel?

Did you know what crops we tried to grow?

And did you feel the hot prairie wind blow?

Do you see the children playing in the sun,

while mother’s thoughts were of the missing one?

And where were you when dad was ill?

He now lies beneath that distant hill.

Don’t pretend you understand our past.

Our life is long gone and did not last.

The wind that speaks to me this day,

tells me now to go and be on my way.

So I leave this scene and walk to the car.

Ghostly farms are viewed best from afar.