The Highway

Hemi drives the bulldozer
How easily he handles
the huge machine.
It revolves
in its own length.
With a roaring motor
it attacks the boulders,
and the tree stumps.
Clouds of dust rise.
Stones roll across the soil.
The unreclaimed ground
smoothes out like a blanket.
Future generations
travelling swiftly —
in comfort —
will not know Hemi,
but they will say,
‘This is a fine highway.’

Marie Andersen