The Winding Road

Bergfreiheit township was near the rainy forest of prickly thistles. We did our thing there with heavy motorcycles and local sheilas. Our teachers loved us they never had to worry our grades were perfect. And then, one morning it was before the sunrise two hit a tree and perished. It was the last day of the school year at Easter dad came to fetch him. The school director whose job it was to tell him was pale and crying. The cops reported that bone-white brain was hanging on that big willow. The weekend after our gang of eight big racers broke a new record. When my friend Eggie flew off my Heinkel Scooter he first went flying. We then collided some minutes after launching on terra firma. It seemed like ages he landed on my back then we were so crazy. Twenty years later we held a class re-union were reminiscing. In Eggie's Porsche we raced right by the willow slid 'round the corner. Where was the devil who had claimed two of ours he must have missed us.