Sometimes you can hear the echoes of years
when the wind whistles like a screech owl
on those farm to market roads and highways
that stretch out uninhibited for miles
those boys in cars that beg to hug a road
those daredevil heart breakers
rebels beyond reach
racing for the girls dressed up in summer clothes
hair in pompadours, ducktail coolness
they revved up their motors
pressed metal to the floor
flew past Fenn’s Point,
down Johnson Road
they road that highway of broken dreams
roared down Hwy. 71
breathed thunder into the sky
worshiped leather and loudness
oh yes, leather jacket smug
in their rolled up t-shirts and jeans
breaking speed limits and hearts
until one day
they crashed into the sun
Though this wasn’t my world, I can fully appreciate how sad it must have been, seeing young lives cut short because their desire to be “cool” was greater than their sense of logic. Well captured!
Thanks Debbie. I have always been enthralled with the history of Hollywood and those bright stars who died so young.