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The Line-Gang

Rating: 2.7
Here come the line-gang pioneering by,
They throw a forest down less cut than broken.
They plant dead trees for living, and the dead
They string together with a living thread.
They string an instrument against the sky
Wherein words whether beaten out or spoken
Will run as hushed as when they were a thought
But in no hush they string it: they go past
With shouts afar to pull the cable taught,
To hold it hard until they make it fast,
To ease away -- they have it. With a laugh,
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COMMENTS
Mark Arvizu 23 July 2015
Technology comes at a price......
5 0 Reply
Stephen W 30 May 2014
A wonderful poem. He deals with this heavy topic with a light touch.
3 1 Reply

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