The Red Wheelbarrow


Beside the barn, the wheelbarrow waits,

Its red body resting, as time hesitates.
The morning fog clings to the air,
And in the stillness, there's a story there.


The grass is wet with dew, so fine,
Each blade a whisper, a silent line.
The wheelbarrow, worn and cracked,
A humble vessel, quietly intact.


Its handle smooth from years of toil,
Its wooden frame, weathered by soil.
Yet in its stillness, there’s a grace,
A peaceful place in time and space.


The rooster crows, the dawn breaks through,
The world awakens with a hue.
Yet here it sits, the wheelbarrow red,
While life spins on, the sun ahead.


It holds no grandeur, no lofty claim,
Yet there’s a beauty in its name.
For in its stillness, we can see
The simple truth of what must be.


The farmer’s hands, rough and worn,
Gently place the seeds they’ve borne.
Each seed, a promise, small and bright,
Planted deep in the morning light.


The wheelbarrow waits, a silent friend,
Its journey bound with earth to lend.
It carries life, from place to place,
A quiet witness to the race.


The plow has passed, the field is wide,
The soil turned under, side by side.
And in the quiet, the wheelbarrow waits,
A humble servant of the fates.


The children laugh as they run near,
Their voices light, their hearts sincere.
They climb the wheels, they jump and play,
While the wheelbarrow holds its sway.


And though it’s worn, it never wearies,
It quietly carries the weight of series.
Of lives, of dreams, of work undone,
Yet still it rests beneath the sun.


Its wheels may creak, its paint may fade,
But in its stillness, there’s a trade—
Between the world that rushes by,
And the quiet moments that never die.


The farmer’s wife, with basket full,
Walks past the wheelbarrow, beautiful.
She hums a tune, a song so sweet,
While underneath, the earth’s heartbeat.


The birds take flight, the wind does blow,
And still the wheelbarrow waits below.
Its red hue sharp against the green,
A flash of color, calm, serene.


The world moves fast, and yet it stays,
Unchanged in its quiet ways.
The wheelbarrow, in simple truth,
Holds no secrets but the proof.


It holds the seeds, the soil, the rain,
The quiet moments, free of pain.
It carries nothing but the day,
And everything that falls away.


The clouds roll in, the skies grow gray,
The wheelbarrow waits, as night turns day.
Its wooden sides, the rust of time,
The silent witness to the rhyme.


For life is fleeting, but here it stays,
The wheelbarrow, in its quiet ways.
It holds no answers, but in its stand,
It speaks of simple, steady hands.


The farmer returns, the day is done,
The wheelbarrow rests beneath the sun.
Its red hue fades, the earth grows still,
While in the distance, the night begins to fill.


Yet in its stillness, there’s a song,
A melody that plays along.
For in the quiet, in the small,
We find the beauty that binds us all.


The wheelbarrow, red and worn,
Is part of life, part of the dawn.
It holds no claim to fame or name,
Yet in its stillness, there’s no shame.


For in its pause, we come to see,
That life’s true beauty is simply free—
In moments small, in quiet grace,
In every humble, peaceful place.


So as the sun begins to set,
And the wheelbarrow waits, still wet,
We find that in the quiet, we are bound
To the earth, to the sky, to the simple sound.


The wheelbarrow, red and bright,
Is more than a tool in morning light.
It is a story, told in time,
A piece of life, a simple rhyme.


The world may turn, and seasons change,
But the wheelbarrow waits, in quiet range.
It holds no judgment, no pride or name,
Just the earth it touches, just the same.


In its stillness, there’s a truth to find,
A lesson taught, a peace of mind.
That even in the simplest things,
There’s beauty found in what life brings.



This poem reflects the quiet, often overlooked beauty of everyday life, much like the simplicity of the red wheelbarrow in the original work. It celebrates how small, humble objects and moments hold deep meaning and offer insights into the steady rhythm of existence.


Simplicity, beauty, everyday life, red wheelbarrow, quiet moments, nature, reflection, humility, serenity, time, peace, connection.

Location: United States

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