That which goeth up must come down,
Thus as the piston swings out,
Over the open road,
So too may it wither through the passage of time.
Then when the once-eternal flame falls to nothing,
As if by necessity,
All things are brought to silence
In the shiny heat of the midday sun,
For the wheels of the world have stopped turning.
© Sean Everett 2014
Photographed in the Mojave Desert, California