Graveyards of the Past
Technology appears anew, as Progress must advance, and past inventions take their cue, resigned without a glance.
Replacements serve us humans well, each polishing the last, the obsolete are left to dwell in graveyards of the past.
No time for aged, passé machines, too quickly Progress comes, as retrogressive metal scenes are views of low-tech slums.
How sad to see what once was used to save us work and time, now tossed aside, disfigured, bruised, a shadow of its prime.
Poem and Photo- Copyright © 2009 by Jack Huber- All rights reserved.

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"I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again."
--Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)
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