04-10-2020, 11:25 AM
Modes
Flying on shiny wings, faring by sea,
rolling on rubber - what can you see?
Winging, you’re high away, distantly cold;
seaborne, deep mystery, monstrous and old.
Driving, roads funnel to tunnels of fear–
even for passengers curled in the rear.
Only by train can you journey in tune:
backsides of cities ease by like the moon.
Flying on shiny wings, faring by sea,
rolling on rubber - what can you see?
Winging, you’re high away, distantly cold;
seaborne, deep mystery, monstrous and old.
Driving, roads funnel to tunnels of fear–
even for passengers curled in the rear.
Only by train can you journey in tune:
backsides of cities ease by like the moon.
Non-practicing atheist