Now I rest in total decay
The mechanical mule who kissed the furrows
Who came to know it day by day
Long ago my wheels rotted
Children sat upon my empty seat
Out in the distance are my beloved fields
Of golden shocks of wheat
My good friend the weather vane
Lays in ruin as do I
Together we become part of the landscape
Subject to all that shall unify
In a world that no longer has needs
For the likes of what we provided
We were the kings of all such things
In days when such things coincided
The fields of wheat give birth to dust
Sunflowers give way to nature
We rust and die in silence
No longer a part of the nomenclature
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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