Saturday, January 14, 2012
He chases speed and destiny
Down the dirt track straightaways
Every Saturday night
Where dusty tire smoke
Mixes with exhaust fumes.
He follows the tire tracks of the greats
Onto racing’s hallowed ground:
I understand his drive,
My pen accelerating full throttle
Through the turns of my own life,
My words laid down on a track
Much less permanent than asphalt
In a race against my own finite time.
The racer writes his own story,
Risking everything in his drive
To victory and legend.
The writer races to her finish line,
Risking everything as well,
A victory without the thunderous applause,
But victory nevertheless.