The New Horse

The auto now tied in its dark dingy stall

     Is stamping and snorting and wailing;

It wants to be harnessed for good and for all

     And go down the avenues sailing.

It pulls at its halter and chafes at delay,

     And whinnies whenever you near it;

So take off its halter and give it its way,

     For the country is waiting to hear it.

            For the auto likes to snort,

            Likes to caper and cavort,

Likes to kick its heels and gambol where the country stock is feeding

            Likes to forge ahead or back,

            Jump a bridge or railroad track,

Then go hiking o’er the highways like a busy rocket speeding.

It’s time it was groomed and all sleeked for the run,

     And harnessed for long distance driving;

The highways are fairly well dried by the sun,

     And bus’ness and pleasure reviving.

So out with the flyer and off for a dash –

     First feed it and shoe it and dock it;

Then dig your spurs deeply and give it a lash,

     And mount your new gasoline rocket.

            For the auto likes to dance,

            Likes to two-step and prance,

Likes to drive the world before it, signs and officers eluding;

            Likes to limber up and scoot,

            Likes to whistle, honk and toot,

Then go down the dusty arches with its wild eye-balls protruding.

March 14, ‘09