At the time of the turn of two centuries ago, carrying the valuables all the way to forever is not the reason of the lock and combination. Covered in the darkness of the case, shut tight away from the outside would stop the world from seeing in, from feeling the feelings of life and love.
But the case is open, and from its rusty wheels locked in place, the wood inside faded now from the sun, the top relates the shoe mold, number seven with a dash, a meaning that has ceased forever.
On the right, the little log cabin, this bird hollow that now is hallowed with its peaked entries and log cabined decor, the holes that look just bigger than a sparrow, slightly smaller than a robin, but made with the tenderness of time, with the intent of making a better home for those who will stay, so that the maker will see them. Look at the commonness of the time they all were made.
Ralph Peck
Photo by Ralph Peck
Outside of Ripley Oklahoma
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