Fast

Knuckles clench over stitched hard leather.
Hand caresses the hard leather ball.
Eyes focused on the road ahead.

Ankles roll from pedal to pedal.
Feet itch to put them to the floor.
Ears tuned to the purr from under the hood.

Heart heightening the tension.
Blood pulsing under the skin.
Lips smirking at the competition.

It is on.

by Sydney Daniels

Comments (3)

A poem of deep insight. You have captured the tension and ease that precede a race. Lovely poem. Susie.
This reminds me of the song called'The Race' by a group called, Yello. Really great piece here. Love Duncan
Sure sounds like the race is on! Great use of words! You are growing by leaps and bounds Syd! Patricia