Rolling Thunder

Twin stacks & chicken lights,
chrome Texas bumper touches
asphalt.

Red W9 shines in the moonlight
rolling on the black ribbon home,
all cylinders pumping hard as the
big cat purrs.

Eighteen wheels spin a whirlwind,
pedal to the floor;
keep’n it between the lines,
Young Soldier at the controls.

Radio blares a tune, passing four-
wheeler’s & sipping hot coffee
from a TA mug; home is on his mind.

Ten hours, six hundred miles,
Young Soldier shuts it down;
Mama’s at the door grinning
ear-to-ear.

Copyright ©2005 K.J. Santana

By Samuel Barradas.