Pamela's Pennings

The lights shine, the horns honk and black tires squeal,
The night Honda races, smoke streaks from the wheels.
The heart speeds, hands tighten – figures whiz by,
The rush and excitement is life, but a lie.
The speed and its freedom keeps her from braking,
Her workday of structure, left her with an aching.
In her mind’s eye, a swerve and scenes from the past,
Flash through her memory – those sweet kind that last.
For a second, she feels how life is so fleeting
A thought passes, that to her Maker she’s meeting.
A second, a sadness, envelopes senses
Echoes of moments laced in pretenses.
A fear that those moments would be all that’s left
Of a life ended short and a love left bereft.
Wheels and heart thrum, slows onward home,
she raced and remembered, we live not alone.

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