Fabric Of A Nation Poem by Richard Theze

This traffic-choked city,
A closely-woven
Metropolitan fabric,
Synthetic, warped by
A million man-made
Threads, pattern-rich,
A profusion of colours,
Of cars and buses,
Between which,
A motorcycle taxi
Weaves, shuttle-like,
From selvage to selvage,
Across the bolt,
Switching,
Perfectly interlacing
Each indelicate strand
Of flawed fibre,
Until he,
Foreman of the mill,
Is master here,
For this is his craft.