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The Trolley May Run Out of Gas

Or translates to "I almost ran out of gas on the trolley today!"
An ode to my day!
On Trolley! New billows sweep thee out
Upward. What wilt thou? Hold that hill, be stout
Gas'st not thy mast
Now rent by stiff South Hill's blast? 
Thy side, of passengers now forlorn?
Thine tank, with groaning gauges say
"Though cannot sustain, 
The three more blocks to thy port!"

Copyright © Miles Winslow | Year Posted 2022

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Book: Shattered Sighs