Watching my dad restore cars and vintage machinery, got me thinking about the whole concept of rebuilding our lives after some disappointment or tragedy has befallen us.
Rotting in Rust
Scrapped and scorched,
Sour debris of dreams.
You had a road once.
Engine fuelled with excitement,
Wheels whirling in wonder,
Electric pulse in your veins.
Carrier becomes Carcass.
Suffocated tyres, submerged in mud.
Decayed door, your broken wing,
Paintwork peels in pain,
Second skin scourged,
with gaping wounds,
weeping oily blood.
Your saviour is an unlikely one,
Scarred hands and weathered face.
Blue eyes the gleam like polished steel
against aging overalls.
Patient, painstaking restoration
reveals a riveting revival,
with each careful clang and clench
of your second birth.
Phoenix formed from failure.
Your driving day will dawn again.