The wind is whistling through the panes –
Some missing and some broken –
This empty place, it speaks to me,
Although no words are spoken

The long-passed men who built these towers —
One brick, and one metal —
They’ve joined the nearby river, where
The silt of time will settle

This cold and empty factory
Once gave the river cargo:
But now, that sweat, those men of old,
They’ve all passed on
To shadow

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One thought to “Factory”

  1. I used to love old places like this…liked to imagine all the nice people that worked there every day. I’m glad you gave this one some love.

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