His eyes were black like something burnt in the
bottom of a skillet. Her hair was red and she
wore it up, errant tendrils stuck to the back
of her neck like clotted blood
On a moonless night they went
riding, the big BSA thrumming
between their thighs, the sameness
of a small southern town burning
at their backs, shimmering like
something from an apocalyptic fantasy
The wind in their faces felt as hot as
the flush of adolescent hormones before
they learned how to quench that parched
thirst, all fingers and sweaty arm pits and
muffled groans
They rode bare-headed with eyes wide
open, the heavy metal growl of the engine
tearing out the mundane duty of their
obedient lives, replacing it with teeth of
rebellion bared before the black tar
hiway beneath their feet
With all four hands in the air they saw
the light and it wasn’t in the eyes of the
preacher man under a green tent of
promised salvation.
They saved themselves;
burnt eyes and clotted hair and rolling
flames disappearing into the night
Charlotte Hamrick 
Woo-ee, that’s a helluva ride! Bril!
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Thanks, Mosk. Just a little quasi fantasy. 🙂
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They rode bare-headed with eyes wide
open…great line, it jumped out at me in reading…really nice storytelling and characterization…on some level i know them…smiles.
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nice…i remember this one…such freedom felt int he open road….and finding it together….
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Thanks, Brian. I love it when you comment – it’s great to hear feedback from an accomplished poet like you. 🙂
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Charlotte, wow! That is just beautiful! I hope all is settled with you since the hurricane.
Pamela
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Yes, we are finally back to normal, Pamela. Thanks for stopping by!
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Almost too real life. Edgy, well constructed – full of passion, and scorching details! Well done!
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Thanks, Gay! Real life is the best fodder for poetry, imo.
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They saved themselves, dare I ask. Verrrry nice!
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Thanks, dear Lilie – always appreciate your comments. 🙂
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Great storytelling. 🙂
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Thanks for stopping by, ayala!
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Loved this… it was better than a roller coaster… the fourth stanza was mind blowing! You think I jest but I never jest about words, about poetry, about art and life and love and magic… this just got me all jumbly-feeling. Well done.
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