Photograph "Taxi and Rickshaw" © 1986 Dorothy A. Birsic

TAXI AND RICKSHAW

The wheels of time spin a curious fate

In a world where no one wants to be late

With two wheels its simple, just buggy and brawn

But labor is trying to dusk from the dawn

The wind at one's back, the breeze in one's hair

A slow rickshaw voyage from here until there

The distance is shorter, the journey is slow

But custom and culture are carried in tow

With four wheels its different, the automotive class

It's wire and metal and machinery and glass

The drivers inside can steer as they would

With brawn that's supplied by the horses 'neath the hood

The conditioning of air does regulate the clime

For passengers who care that they're making good time

Any distance is possible, none too far to pass

With swiftness of taxi and plenty of gas

But is it really a matter of now or of yore

When one makes a choice between two wheels or four?

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