To Have Your Own Wheels Poem by Gert Strydom

When I was a young man
I drove a blue Suzuki motorbike
and went down Marrion hill
at 180 over a speed trap
and I still remember to this day
how the speed cops cold only show signs at me
while I disappeared away from them.

Its years later and a 900 Honda
roars under me
and it’s wonderful
to feel the power of the iron horse
under me
and the sun and the wind cherishes me,
but to have my own wheels
is the best of all.