These old wheels won’t be used anymore. There will be no more spinning round and round for them. Now they stand out back, slowly decaying with their bottoms getting swallowed by the Earth. It’s a race to see which will win: Decay or the Earth. In this case, I believe it will be decay, although the Earth will certainly give it a good shot.
I try to picture the man who fashioned them, what he was
like, what he was thinking when he made them.
He couldn’t have imagined this end, I am sure. No, he pictured their usefulness and no doubt
took pride in his creation. I try to
picture all the work that was done with these wheels when they were in fine
condition, all the places they visited.
And then it was time to set them aside, just for a little while, just
because there was nowhere else to put them, just because they weren’t
immediately needed anymore. We’ll get
back to them. We’ll fix them. We’ll use them again.
And then “we” didn’t.
There they’ve stood for a very long time, and there they’ll stay until
they just disappear altogether. There is
nothing in life that is permanent, least of all the things made by mankind. One by one, they disappear--some sooner than
others, but all of them go. We who stand
by and look at them and wonder about them and think of their makers do not
realize how close we ourselves follow in their footsteps.
These old wheels rest permanently now. |