THE RIDE
dedicated to all of us;
those who made it
and especially to those didn't
we lost too many!!!
Peace
Summer was hot
Pipes barking softly
Biker feeling good
Both were riding
On the wings of life
From nowhere and behind
A shot in the back
An unforeseen explosion
Down we go
to an unknown place
We fall together
She encircles me
I cover her
Each
trying to protect
The other
Her little leg
Biting my knee
Saying hello to my
Bone and muscle
Rolling, skidding
Kissing the pavement
Neither of us knowing
Our final destination
All memories a blur
People shrouded
visions a jumbled
jigsaw puzzle
Bike a wreck, rider bloody
Pipes no longer barking
but B.J. is smokin hot
Skeleton and Frame
destroyed
My Form
A bloody distortion
Of what was
Her Body
Metal dinged
Fiberglass crushed
Both of us
Scattered across
2 lanes
Pieces of us
Litter the street
Pieces plucked
Off the road of despair
Healing for both
a Long Time Coming
THE ARRIVAL
Unknowingly
he enters
Enveloping
the abyss
Imploding
the anger
Awakening
Tears flooding
her eyes
Exiting moodily
sadly, longingly
Now
She's physically home again
THIS BOOK
Dedicated to all
who pushed me
to get it out there.
She became the book
no one wanted
forever on the shelf
Big and bulky
the once vibrant
mud earth brown cover
now dull and dreary
Dust-laden
from years of neglect
untouched, unopened, unread
Hidden in the back
of the store, behind the newer
more popular, exciting titles
Pages yellowed from age
stained with tears of isolation
Handmade binding
tattered, frayed, decaying
She is held intact
by the sinewy thread
of
Tomorrow's Sale