I love it when a poem is just fun, and no less deep for being so.
The Red and Green Cement Truck
rumbles by to where it’s going, while
at an incline on the bed and
at right angles to the wheels
its mixer, shaped
like a big cocktail shaker, turns
upon an axis slowly, slowly,
blending the cement and water.It is a feat as neat as
pat-your-head-and-rub-your-belly
but what I like still better is
to see in it
ourselves, we who do best
to use our heads for mulling, mixing
while with our feet
we keep on trucking.