
Racing Man
I’ve parked you in my dreams
where you sit sputtering,
engine racing,
ready to be off
over the next hill
as always, reaching to release the parking brake,
adjusting the seat back,
never noticing the rear-vision mirror
is slightly off-kilter.
The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you.
Hey, I know him too! Oops. Actually, I am him. Metaphorically speaking.
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Nah. Wrong sex, wrong qualities.
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