Once mere objects, held back to spare the environment
How you have evolved
Become markers of time, reminders of events
past
You held the force that controlled light and sound
You let us see and speak, hear and listen
Then, you were spat out, your flesh consumed
You, who held the power to move gadgets, gizmos, machines
and devices
Now, just monuments to consumption, symbols of usage
No longer able to provide, you are empty, spent
Oh little cylinders, dormant in your cage, filling space
What history you posses
What memories you hold
What moments were captured by your spark
_____________________
100 words written for Friday Fictioneers.
Dear Roger,
ReplyDeleteWhat an original and unique piece. I enjoyed your ode to a battery. I may never take one for granted again.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Now this was different. What a lofty way to think of the battery. Even the little ones that power my ears... maybe not as colorful, but they do the job. Nice poem...
ReplyDeleteWonderful, the memory that a discarded battery may hold.
ReplyDelete"What moments were captured by your spark." This final sentence captures the essence of your story but also the spirit of all of the Friday Fictioneers. Thank you for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteAloha,
Doug
I like " You held the force that controlled light and sound
ReplyDeleteYou let us see and speak, hear and listen"
Nice!