Highway in the Rain

First light’s cracking, night still grips, to the blacktop rider's gleaming wings. Wipers thumping the old two-by-two beat, Tyres hissing down rain-slick street. I’m breathing deep, holding on tight, Shocks are pumping; the ride's just right— Every curve’s whipping like a river bend, When will snake tail flipping ever end? Tail-lights ahead bleed a molten red line, In the white-line channel, headlights shine. Breathing steady, but knuckles are white, Shocks are screaming, pumping with delight. Feathering the brakes to tame the slide, Drifting close to head-ons on other side. Cones like ghosts go spinning wide— Can’t avoid them; I'm cutting them aside. Highway in the rain. Rolling where the wheels guide me. Highway in the rain. Rolling on the ride inside me. On the highway in the rain. Signs flash past, dripping neon gold. Like credits in movies of old retold. Bridges vault up like rolling swells. With shrill rings of whistles and bells. Raindrops whip streamers, across the windscreen. I squint to see through the glare and the sheen. Diesels thunder and rattle the air, As headlights flare up, then disappear. The hills crowd close; the darkness hums, Engine sings as the blacktop ride drums. Somewhere out there, dawn will break, The silver sky will make its jailbreak. Till then I’m riding the storm’s cold embrace, Chasing my deadline with a relentless pace— Every road I've pounded with grit and grind. Is curled up asleep, somewhere in my mind. Highway in the rain. Rolling where the wheels guide me. Highway in the rain. Rolling on the ride inside me. Highway in the rain. Every mile’s a wave I ride, As clouds chase from side to side— On the highway in the rain. On the highway in the rain.