Poetry by Dave Douglas

Cold Shoulder

My mind’s eye burns up the road,
Until it hit a blind cold shoulder;
My focus spins out of control
Onto a thin sheet of icy candor.

Storms in my brain lose their power,
The flames in my heart drown out,
As the gravity of forged caution signs
Drops a detour of a deadly route.

No laws will dodge the washout,
No amount of cunning is enough,
The only hope to save this thought
Rides in the bones of the risen Sheriff.

I accelerate over streets too rough,
The tarmac, an extension of soul –
I do not dread a curve of sarcasm!
Skin is not of concern, but my role.

Dave Douglas © 2011

Dave Douglas may be reached at carpevelo@gmail.com.

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