On the Power Station

Though the traffic cannot be driving-wise,

nor free-flow a blessing on the highways,

the actions of courtesy that are few,

and in lanes which yield no space,

crushed patience cut short by the congestion,

and there be no room for a misjudgement;

yet I can rejoice in Autobahn,

I will take joy in its electric-beat rhythms,

And travel in the flow of its parts symphonic,

And feel that I am winged and happy,

Flying in high and empty places.