Sweet beast, smelling of hot metal and oil,
you challenge me.
Can I ride you?
If I catch you slumbering, I can sneak in your belly,
and sway to the rumbling of your gears.
But when you are awake, even ambling, you move too fast for my weak legs,
And I know the grinding wheels and rocking knuckles could easily snip off pieces
of me without you’re even noticing.
Still I hear you’re singing as you whisper tic, tic, click to yourself,
And the humming rises to your wild whistle.
Elf alias Joy Lynn Rosser