Looks to be reinvented
Not to be harvested for spare parts
Hopes for a tinkering hold
Longing for a friend
Begging for another chance
Quietly waiting out the old clock
Wishing to break off its hands
Interrupt the gears
Jealous of endless ticking
And never faltering or questioned
Just portioning out the time
In small increments
Touched and wound and self-assured
While the old are thrown into the dirt
Covered in organic waste
Pleading for maggots
-Laura Skowronski, personal writing exercise, 5/27/2010
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