Poetry by Ryan Feed

The Old Tire

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              The Old Tire 

by Ryan M. Roberts

 

                     As one of four, I carried a car;

On business of utmost import.

 

From summit to shore, I traveled afar;

All the while my time growing short.

 

I rolled along, till my tread was all spent;

Tossed away—thin, worn and unfit.

 

On the side of the road, to the ditch I was sent;

To die lying still in the pit.

 

But life ebbed again at the hand of a boy;

A push and a roll was my test.

 

I found all joy, in the guise of a toy;

These miles are some of my best.

 

 


Autumn Hope

Dscf1309_2 Autumn leaves flame out as they make their descent through the cool harvest air.

Their brilliant colors wane under foot, broken and crushed into the darkening earth below.

Even in death they yield a harvest.

Hidden in winter depths their embers glow, fueling hope with a spark of new life.