Motorbike

I can feel every grain of gravel

Swallowed up and spat out by my wheels

Chewed, crunched and sprayed out like fine dust

The wind propels me on

The fine dust licked up

Into a mighty storm

That hangs behind me

Like a faithful hound

We go on together

Down this endless road

Losing ourselves in speed

Wrestling with death

It only takes one lousy pothole

 

 

Author: Jack Bennett

Born in Torbay, living in Bristol. One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.

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