retirement has finally come,
likely forced upon you
sunbaked paint chipping,
rusty leaf springs strained.
back broken in two.
labor no longer stranger,
its time to rest.
far far from home,
the sun is setting.
the steed awaits its master,
always waiting to leave.
draped in new linen,
hot, humid, with a breeze,
picnicking on the cerape,
peaceful music in the air.
laying, resting, hat on the face,
waiting for nightfall in the midsummer heat.
it will be here soon, the starbursts in the night.
fireworks, blasting on the 4th of july.
dream machine
hidden sanctuary,
hidden in view,
hidden from you.
you'll know me when you see me