final poemThe old motor is silent & battery drained Me spark plugs haf corroded & chasis needs a change This vehicle has cum to a standstill in a place no vehicle should be On the windshield a marker states: No-parking As a truck hauls away the junk of this body The light blue 1955 Buick Century convertible I identified with ceases to mean |
| Ron: | So this is how we end up - on a trash heap? | |||
| Ram: | Essentially. Feels weird to know that we are living on top of a mountain of bones, eh? | |||
| Ron: | I guess we have to make peace with our own skeletons. Sometimes that's not easy. | |||
| Lex: | Thank the skeletons of the past for allowing you to experience this moment. Once you have a sense of gratitude, peace is effortless. |
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