The moving stairs
Here I stood on the floor below, Then on a stair-step rising slow.
Over the heads of the shoppers then— Dressed-up ladies and bothered
men;
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An escalator that carries you from one floor to another in a busy
department store is a moving inclined plane—an inclined plane on
wheels. The wheels are out of sight, under the steps.
Hump, the Escalator slid
Out of the basement—yes, he did!
Out of the basement unawares, Flattened a moment, then made a stairs;
Made a stairs that moved and crawled Up through a runway, narrow-walled.
Over the aisles of hats and hose— Over the shelf displays I rose!
Suddenly stood on the second floor, Not on a stairway any more.
Every rider ahead of me
Took it stiffly and solemnly.
Nobody paid a penny’s fare—
Or knew they had ridden a Magic Stair!
Hump, the Escalator by Dorothy Faubion
