Man's Machines
Since he walked out of the garden,
Men have been building machines.
Simple at first, hoes and shovels,
Then, carts and plows and cranes.
Gradually more complicated they grew.
War made them more beautiful and deadly.
Trade made them bigger and more essential.
Finally boats as intricate as a Rube Goldberg dream.
One of the most beautiful things man's ever created,
Fifty to half a thousand men dancing together
In time to the wind and the waves and currents
Just to make a windjammer fly across the water.
Tens of thousands of intricately interconnected
Rope, pins, pulleys, and broad sheets of canvas,
Rudder, yards, tackle, sheets and men, a symphony,
In blood and bone, hemp and wood and steel.
Our machines are mostly steel now; things we
Sit upon and turn a key or flip a switch.
And off they go without us except maybe
To be carried along, holding the tiller.
© 2019 by Tom King
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