Speed

Reluctantly crouched at the starting line
Engines pumping and thumping in time
The green light flashes, the flags go up
Churning and burning they yearn for the cup

They deftly manuver and muscle for rank
Fuels burning fast on an empty tank
Reckless and wild, they pour through the turns
Their prowess is potent and secretly stern

As they speed through the finish, the flags go down
The fans get up and they get out of town
The arena is empty except for one man
Still driving and striving as fast as he can

The sun has gone down and the moon has come up
Not long ago somebody left with the cup
But he's driving and striving an hugging the turns
And thinking of someone for who he still burns

- - John McCrea


Today's earrings: coffee cups, hummingbirds

Bedtime reading: Owl's Well That Ends Well, Donna Andrews