(inspired by Robert Pinsky)
Morning sun on his face
steady motor murmur
vibrating the hose
Bluebells clamber
over the hill’s top -
nothing to remember
only the same engine noise
that keeps making the same sounds
under his head poised
and pulsing the same beat
no-one to say his name,
no need, no-one to praise him
only the engine’s voice - over
and over, running under him.
© M.L.Emmett