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Literature Text
A rusted hulk of a car
out in the back pasture
"Someday I'm gonna
fix this up... maybe I'll
even race her... they
sure don't make 'em
like this anymore."
It was the idle talk
of teenagers who
had nothing but words,
but for a little while
the ancient Plymouth
dared to hope, to
believe, in something
that could never be.
The boys grew up,
the hulk forgotten
amidst new dreams
and slowly its
desires faded
as the rust of
disuse grew thicker,
till its awareness
faded away,
forevermore.
out in the back pasture
"Someday I'm gonna
fix this up... maybe I'll
even race her... they
sure don't make 'em
like this anymore."
It was the idle talk
of teenagers who
had nothing but words,
but for a little while
the ancient Plymouth
dared to hope, to
believe, in something
that could never be.
The boys grew up,
the hulk forgotten
amidst new dreams
and slowly its
desires faded
as the rust of
disuse grew thicker,
till its awareness
faded away,
forevermore.
Just an old car... A hot summer day with high humidity, some boys wandering through the fields, climbing into the scorching hot old car... batting at wasps and telling about what's gonna happen someday.......
© 2008 - 2024 arkansawyer
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... not only you capture those thru your lens but thru your words too 