by Myra King
It lies in rusting riot
of shadowed days.
Flying high its emblem wings,
forever stalled.
Front fender,
damage done,
but introverted steel
protects itself
not healed but hidden.
Those who survived
its old time crash
long gone from other causes.
Wind sinews through its wreck
whistles thin
its paddock mate,
the tractor
with the flattened tyres.
Later vintage laid to rest
when drought
threadbared the land,
shed those souls of country birth,
buried them live
in the concrete work
of city living.
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I remember a rusting Model T Ford ... dented, from a crash? ... another - the Wall Street Crash in a country so far from Australia - and now the ongoing drought...
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Great imagery at work here as metaphor, Myra. The closing lines are exceptional. I like this piece.
I felt as if I were looking at an old photo AS I read, going from photo to poem, agreeing that everything you said was, in fact, in the photo.
(I've got a picture of my grandmother in a "driving uniform" standing next to their first car, a Model A, I believe.)
Thanks, Sam and Matt.
Very fine, Myra, a compact vision of the great diaspora from land to concrete entombment.
Nice scope on this Myra and very expressive word choices. Nice
Myra, great poem, with strong symbolic imagery on the surface implying many levels of meaning beneath. I'm from Detroit, home of the Model T Ford, and that city now seems to also be "forever stalled." When "drought threadbared the land [along with pollution]" then "those souls of country birth" who are buried "live in the concrete work of city living" Have no land to which they can return.
Great poem. I especially like the closing.
Myra, this is ovely, evocative. You can just see their skeletal remains with the wind whipping
ps-- LOVELY is the above word
Myra, You got me with "buried them live/ in the concrete work/ of city living."
Nice irony here in surviving a wreck only to be "buried . . . live," the way broken vehicles are disposable, and then the people who used them are. A lot of history in a few lines!
Thanks David,J,Michael,Mark,Susan, Jack and Stephanie. Much appreciated :-)
Nice poem. like the line, "forever stalled"
Thanks, Matthew.
The ending gave me goosebumps. Beautiful poem, Myra.
Thanks, Dallas.
love the mood in this, a nuanced irony...the play between movement/motion and decay set up so well with the line, "Flying high its emblem wings, / forever stalled"
Thanks, Doug :-)
I missed this one a long time ago! Wonderful images, especially what the wind does. *