“I bought every kind of machine that's known- Grinders, shellers, planters, mowers, Mills and rakes and ploughs and threshers- And all of them stood in the rain and sun, Getting rusted, warped and battered, For I had no sheds to store them in, And no use for most of them. And toward the last, when I thought it over, There by my window, growing clearer About myself, as my pulse slowed down, And looked at one of the mills I bought- Which I didn't have the slightest need of, As things turned out, and I never ran- A fine machine, once brightly varnished, And eager to do its work, Now with its paint washed off- I saw myself as a good machine That Life had never used.” LifeLonelyAgingRural Book:Spoon River Anthology Source: Spoon River Anthology
“There is something about Death Like love itself! If with some one with whom you have known passion, And the glow of youthful love, You also, after years of life Together, feel the sinking of the fire, And thus fade away together, Gradually, faintly, delicately, As it were in each other's arms, Passing from the familiar room- That is a power of unison between souls Like love itself!” LoveDeathMarriageAgingCouplesFading Away Book:Spoon River Anthology Source: Spoon River Anthology
