Removal Car
And to think I helped people move!
I held my breath
for a century,
letting dust seep
into my skin.
I bided my time,
remembering the rhythmic
clack from my axles.
Tree roots wrapped
me in an awkward embrace
as I recalled how helpful I was.
Humans used to entrust me
with their treasures:
lamps, chairs, glamorous mirrors.
For so long,
I was hollow.
When they found me,
I was ready to huff
at their neglect.
But they cooed compassion,
caressed my flaking flanks.
To my surprise,
they could still move me.