Watchful giant under cloud standing proud,
waiting patiently now alone in field overgrown,
wanting to be useful again and wondering when,
as wild brier roses thorn scrape paint now torn.
Leaning slightly where it once stood so mighty,
as though expecting guest trying to look its best,
wistfully over deserted field gazing at view amazing,
though abandon and now looking so sad somehow.
Sorrow from inward seeping as rust slowly creeping,
climbing toward the sky as silent giant wonders why,
it had done its job well yet somehow disrepair still fell,
undaunted it hopefully stands awaiting new demands.
Shining rounded roof reflecting in tin all it had once been,
white sides dull, yellow aging it seem no longer it gleams,
its sorrowing decaying form remains now in sun warm,
useful days long since past it awaits wind’s crumbling blast.
Karen Quinn 2013