Memories Of Le Mans

Kurt Philip Behm

You fly toward the finish,

and take the last curve

 

The Mulsanne behind you,

your legend—your nerve

 

Worn tires losing traction,

the edge of control

 

Fate laughing inside you,

old blood on the pole

 

Your mind now invaded,

the ghosts have arrived

 

Eighty-two came to watch,

eighty-two lost their lives

 

Your brakes are on fire,

you tap them just once

 

The last lap demonic,

a young driver in front

 

You fake to the inside,

diving deep to the wall

 

The rookie left startled,

checkered flag set to fall

 

At over two hundred,

charging down the last straight

 

With both hands on the wheel,

death again has to wait

 

You roar past the grandstand,

your right arm in the air

 

A dark podium beckons,

—the Devil’s to share

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

  • Author: Kurt Philip Behm (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 1st, 2017 09:22
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 105
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.