Windmills of Your Mind

Mulder’s Farm, Deuel County, South Dakota

In this drafty shed on an abandoned farm lies this set of blades for a windmill.

Once used to supply groundwater to animals and gardens, the windmill had evidently become obsolete even before the farm’s demise. It was saved, perhaps it had been damaged in a storm, maybe the farmer thought he could rebuild it some day.

That day never came.



Once vibrant fields now overgrown with weeds,
Whispering of agricultural deeds.
The barn poses in a shabby dress,
Its laboring over, it takes a rest.

Rusty plowshares rest in the field,
No longer guided by hands that wield.
The windmill creaks in the restless air,
A sentinel of the past singing there.

A humble farmhouse, abandoned.
Standing in silence, unwanted.
The stone foundation is cool to the touch,
Reminds us of seasons past and such.
A victim of time's embrace,
A portrait of a once-loved place.
What once was real it now seems,
Is just a painting of broken dreams.