Tin Man

The tin man sits in the rain

collecting dust in his copper cup

and wonders if he’s sane.

If you ask about his wooden axe

he’ll regale you

with enchanted stories of  a lumberjack.

Down the winding road a bit

a sign blinks on and off

in a neon flit.

He’s most eager to take the trail

to wander from his living hell.

For he knows a heart would be divine

to fill his silver shell

not cast in a shrine.

Lead with purpose, strength, and momentum

his first breath of oxygen

is like finding gold in an old trash bin.

 

Day 5 – Poetic Asides says to pick an element from the periodic table. I couldn’t decide on just one!

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2 comments on “Tin Man

  1. Dear L. Burton,
    Wow, this poem is so wonderful. The line that sticks out to me the most is “Lead with purpose, strength and momentum.” You write with a depth and transparency that many lack. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

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