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Nature's Sentinel
In a great, entangled forest, stands a metal monster—
An impossibility of nature, made by man. Alone;
Broken—it looms over all things natural
And asserts its right over the creatures that belong.
They do not look to him (this fake, metal being) —
It cannot even breathe or make noise!
Apart from the gears whirring in its machine form.
It is hated and unwanted. Even by its creators,
It has been abandoned. Now, it will never be found,
And it will be left for time to deal with; until it is
Creaking and groaning and falling apart with rust.
One day, soon, the grass will grow so thick and wild
That it will wrap its spindly fingers around the beast's leg
And grip it tight. The weeds will never let go—
The metal monster will never move again.
The whole of the forest soon will envelop the machine
Until there is nothing left to be seen of it. Until it is
Destroyed, like it was never there. Gone:
Prey to the unknown and the forces of nature.
Copyright ©
Amelie Ison
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