by Sal Cento

Riding the Road
at the speed of light
the vibration of the music
fills your lungs and mind

The sluggish don’t stand a chance.
The fast are not fast enough.

You barely feel the warning of the wind
The blur of motions following the backside of your hand.

You were so out there you didn’t seem to notice the piercing of the glass on your skin
doesn’t seem to hurt

until it is too late and you feel the coldness of the concrete embracing you

It feels so good on your spine but you soon come to realize
that all is not what it seems
The sounds of the siren are coming near
but your eyes are closing my dear.