and roaring, pouring air;
Suspended by magic and iron laws
Between dawn and a day from hell.
But no matter
What I conjure
From this concatenation of curving tubes
Precision parts and spinning spokes
It will not suffice:
There’s no machine, no human power
That can outrun the onward rush
Of fate, events and time.
Yet while there is a road
Breath and blood, a rising sun
And I have strength and will enough
I’ll ride and rage, hurt and hope.