DRAG RACER AT 40 by John Grey

A temptation to press my foot harder down on the accelerator.
The street’s dark. No traffic lights.
My breath held back like a hungry lion at its cage’s door.
Just before daylight. No other cars. No people out.
But who needs an audience anyhow.
One drag would take years off my life.
Give me back my late teens
when I knew every road around here 
like my heart keeps track of its arteries.
Didn’t I use to race. And before a crowd.
Hit that pedal like a hammer and all I had to do was steer.
Once, I went so fast there was a whole two weeks
between starting my engine and being discharged from hospital.
But just knowing that people were watching –
that was my healing long before any bones were broken.
Maybe that’s why I hold back on my instincts now.
I’d be the only witness.
I could tell myself, I’ve still got it.
But I wouldn’t know what I’ve got.

 

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Shift, River And South and Flights. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Rush, Writer’s Block and Trampoline.

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