Dignity

The truck rests,
a carcass of intention,
its frame dissolving into the ground
as snow recedes in slow apology.

Once, it was motion —
a vessel of thunder,
the promise of distance
held in the tension of gears.

Now, it inhabits stillness,
a geometry of decay,
the metal’s quiet erosion
a dialogue with time.

In its silent decay, there is a pride—
etched in every worn edge and dent.
A testament to labor well done,
with no regret shadowing a life of honest work.

Yet, in its ruin,
a persistence:
the shape of what was,
refusing to become less.

Peaks Island, Maine

Peaks Island, Maine

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