The Machine Poem by Paul Warren
The Machine
The machine rips up the roadway
As it claws the ground away
Black tar mixes with the gravel
As it grinds and heats whilst it travels
Patterns where bitumen once was located
Replaced by black new tarmac is weighted
The might of the machine holds sway
As humans watch the trained behemoth works away.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Tuesday, May 2, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: technology
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5/10/2024 1:59:31 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Sounds like a Barber-Greene 879 Asphalt Paver with core drill. - what a machine and you captured it perfectly.