Epitaph

The cast iron hulk
rusts in the attic
where dust gathers
on rows of metal keys.
Spiders spin threads
between typewriter hammers
embossed with twin symbols
in reverse.

A yellowed page lies
in the machine's embrace,
corners nibbled by a mouse.
Typeface, chiseled deep
into pulp, pales gray
with the author's
parting words.

Scott Speck
03/30/99