Mirabel Smith Poet Verse

16" Blade

I stand on my wrap around porch,

Hands on hips,

Looking,

Seeing nothing but 

Helmet,

Face,

Throttle.

Deep from inside feeling everything but

The leather chaps and steel toed boots.

Pushed up by my heart,

I stand on my toes,

Thinking, not stopping.

16 inch blade and

husky saws.

Moving to the edge,

Hands firmly gripped to the wood,

I consider going back.

I consider throwing on my trench coat now,

Take a drive right on down to the lumber yard,

Sit there and watch.

Whipped saw tooth,

Wedge cuts,

I’ll sit here all day.

Wait through lunch breaks,

Steel lunch boxes opened with

Rough saw dust hands.

Helmet,

Face,

Throttle.

Foot pushed hard on the break,

Feeling like honking.

Catching my eye,

Like a dog I perk up,

Smile to smile.

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L'Nass Shango March 20, 2009 at 6:38 AM Mirabel, I feel the pulse of an adventurer from the temple of this poem. Well crafted. I love it, love poet and poem, always.

Sue Mason March 18, 2009 at 10:12 AM Awesome write here Mirabel ... great imagery ... I can almost hear the engine ... smile ... Welcome to PoetrySoup!! I look forward to reading more of your writing soon.