by Pat Mullan
I sat on the cold handlebars
my thighs bone-tight to the metal
as you pushed me
Your breath spluttered
hot on my neck
like the engine in
your old Morris Minor
Up and up that brae
you pushed till you seemed
to stand still on the pedals
almost waiting to fall
Hailstones beat down
on my bare legs
till they were scourged red
but I don’t remember the pain
I only remember your strength
and your closeness.
We were never like that again.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Pat Mullan is a thriller writer and a poet. His recent work has appeared in the anthology, DUBLIN NOIR, published in the USA by Akashic Books and in Ireland and the UK by Brandon Books., You can find his GALWAY NOIR anthology on-line from iPulp Fiction., His poetry appears frequently in the Acorn E-zine of the Dublin Writers Workshop. He has two collections of poetry available on-line, Childhood Hills and Awakening. James Dickey’s Poetry: The Religious Dimension is his elegy to Dickey and is available on-line on Amazon Kindle., His latest novel, Last Days of the Tiger, is now available on Amazon. New thrillers coming soon: Creatures of Habit and Screwed., He is Ireland Chair of International Thriller Writers, Inc., Visit him at: www.patmullan.com
Last updated August 07, 2011