Need For Heed
By Norm Olson, Nikiski
Speeding down the highway, the wind against my face
With my Honda underneath me, I raced for open space.
The throttle fully open, no faster could I fly.
Telephone polls became a blur as I went roaring by.
Then all of a sudden it happened. I sensed my end of luck.
For pulling from a side road was a loaded gravel truck!
The lights went out in Georgia when I hit that load of dirt
And the doctors wouldn’t tell me, just how badly I was hurt.
But I’m thankful to be living, though my posture is strange to see,
For I’ve got that Honda’s handlebars where my spine once used to be.
