The driven Ford has met its end, sort of,
It’s paint is rusted off and left blank, sort of,
Headlights gone, wheel well lights gone, sort of,
The bed, that was, maybe boxed, maybe flat, is gone now, sort of,
With row upon row of cotton, storm clouds building from the west, the earth turning, with greens and whites, and fence posts stacked on replacement,
Another day, another season, another year crawls through where the windows used to be, sort of.
Ralph Peck
Photography by Tim Holland
Washita County, Oklahoma
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