The Machine

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The Machine

The mechanism is broken.

The chain creaks all night.

Nobody can get any sleep.

The wheel keeps turning,

pulling at something

that is no longer there.

The machine is rusty,

even the birds won’t nest inside

any more.

The field has given up,

retreating

before reed

and frogs.

NaPoWriMo Day 3
2015 April PAD Challenge, Day 3