Highland Hill

The trio of bicycles barreled down the hill

The leader, arms flowing out behind him like a superhero cape

He Whooped and hollered joyously

As he careened bullet speed

Breathlessly gripping handlebars solid rescue

But only when the fear became overwhelming

His second, perhaps best friend,

Chased after the first bike reverently

Reckless, he is not; brave he be

The frightening freedom pulses wildly

From the words of the “safe” straggler:

“Oh my God!” Is Doppler effected

They are clearly exhilarated; shaken (not stirred) like Yahtzee dice

Throwing winds of change behind them

They push the envelope between light and dark

Like when the streetlights come on

When it’s five minutes more stolen: of living fully

This entry was posted in Human.

One comment on “Highland Hill

  1. Linda Looney says:

    I like this one -I can just see boys racing down a hill “no handed” like you describe! A good vision of your poem!

    Sent from my iPhone


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