Still Rolling On

He was rolling on two thin lines of chrome. Early mornings far from home.

Counted miles, counted pain. Every loss a lesson, every win a

gain. Fire, no smoke, no looking back. Just a steady

heart and a narrow track. Later, fire changed its tone.

He had the gift of words and walked his own. Still rolling on.

Still rolling through. Life keeps turning. He does too. Through love and loss.

Through old and new. Still rolling on. That's what he'll do.

When the racing stopped, the rebel came. Longer nights, a different flame.