The following is a poem I wrote many moons ago when babysitting two cute little cousins. They were very energetic boys and kept me active throughout the day. After I got them to bed, I relaxed on the couch and listened to the sounds of a quiet house.
Only a while ago their fumes died. Their tiny engines—those keep-go engines. The ones chasing and yelling changed their purrs into idle putters.
Now, no squeak or hum. No wide eyes. Their fuel carries them no more.
Lights out. Silence. Relief. My ears perk to only black shadows of nothing.
They sleep. They drone, operating the sound of regeneration.
My heart sighs “relief.” Eyes droop. Hand quivers. My gas screams “low.” Exhaust fades from my engine.