Empty Trucks

Found them parked in a row off the north road,

grass to the axles, doors ajar.

Engines cold. Beds washed clean.

We stood there a long time.

Nobody said the obvious.

Nobody had to.

Empty trucks. Empty trucks.

We finally see you empty.

All those springs you came for us —

look at you now. Just metal.

Empty trucks —

you were never the monster.

The monster signs the orders.

You just drove.

I climbed up on the ramp of one.

My legs remembered the angle.

Forty seasons of that angle,

bred into the knees.

I stood at the top a while,

looking out instead of in.

First one of us to ever

walk back down.

Empty trucks. Empty trucks.

We finally see you empty.

All those springs you came for us —

look at you now. Just metal.

Empty trucks —

you were never the monster.

The monster signs the orders.

You just drove.

I pressed my hand to the cold ramp steel.

It didn't remember anybody.

That was the worst part.

It didn't remember anybody.

Empty trucks. Empty trucks.

We finally see you empty.

The monster signs the orders.

You just drove.