Propelled by forty horses
Speeding through a page
On a dark and dreary day
Of my uninteresting life
I see you tumbling aimlessly

And I think about how
For many a day you worshipped
From the safety
Of your lofty position
Face turned to the sun
In perfect harmony
One with nature

And the one that you adored
Who made you beautiful
Has re-made you now
Having lost your purpose
Fragile brown in your demise

And there you go
Cascading down the street
Dodging the traffic of life
No particular direction
A slave to the wind’s desire

Still I want to possess you
And what you represent
To press you into pages
Endless empty volumes
In my vapid existence

But instead I plow ahead
Catching your fragile form
Between rubber and road
Scattering your memory
Before the coming storm