Michael Tucci

Rookie (25 January 1967)

C'Est La Vie - Poem by Michael Tucci

A vast lot of abandoned souls.

The cherry-orange tinge of rotting carcasses of
Past technological advances. Then, the "WOW"
Of their time, now forgotten.

Once shiny, proud, peacock-esque
Now piled like cord wood reaching for the
Sky while melting back to dust.

The sounds of time adrift on the
Breeze, yield a slight, shrill hint of
What once was. So subtle that most
Care less to even listen, if they were
Actually open to the surroundings
They inhabit.

What happened to these hulks, now
Prostrate, silent, in the windswept dust
Of their final decomp slumber?

Who cares? C'est la vie…


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Poem Submitted: Friday, January 18, 2013



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