![]() |
Written for a friend studying engineering, the grace of her creation. |
| Ode to an Engineer The gleaming brass and steel arise, peek through with smooth construct and sleek design- Mechanical alive, organic too, All flowing grace and shapely lines. All coldly calculated they, but keen: the eloquence of some sweet girl, Her time becomes her heart becomes machine; Piston flywheel, soft lock and curl. Immense arising here it swells, a span of time, and energies amend which she designed. Machine drew down and planned as wondrous as the book and pen. And then: what can I say? What shall I do? A simple sign, so evident the truth: kinetic living live and bright, a girl's eye or her machine, the grace cannot alight. |