Mar
18
Black steel glistens as
Giant girded arms
Push and pull the
Massive wheels
Along the track
I am the engineer
With my small striped hat
I guide the machine along
It’s predetermined course
Stretching out for miles
And I see the track as it lay
Across the fields
Of wheat and barley
Bending in the gentle
Breeze I create in passing
I close my eyes knowing
The machine will pull us
Forward for wont of will
And beneath the lids
Of my eyes and deep
Into the recesses of my
Soul I see that as the
Track lays out for
Miles upon miles upon
Miles that somewhere
Deep inside as I glide
Along I am also
Out in front
Beyond where the
Eye can see
With my
Hammer
