Motor Cars

by Rowena Bastin Bennett

Rowena Bastin Bennett

From a city window, 'way up high,
I like to watch the cars go by.
They look like burnished beetles black,
That leave a little muddy track
Behind them as they slowly crawl.
Sometimes they do not move at all
But huddle close with hum and drone
As though they feared to be alone.
They grope their way through fog and night
With the golden feelers of their light.

Last updated February 17, 2023