Wind flashing through my strands
Mounted cheeks, glimmering tusks
Admiration for the driver, he’s my big brother
Rubber tornados would tarnish on asphalt
The dust ridden terrain spitting pebbles
Blasting our elapse
Fibers securely woven however lax
Expediting moments closed my eyes
Twirling gusts prove they can heave
Skipped carving to memory
Punched I met ground
My scalp flourishes in eternity sand
Rotated I stare to see
The valiant driver still revolving
My big brother didn’t even notice
Mature poem with a young voice. Each line is like a line on its own rather than part of a continuing piece but which still gives the poem a nice fluidity: sometimes a bad thing, but works wonderfully in this poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. Great line(Rubber tornado) . An easy tenner. God bless all poets-MJG.