Harley turned 70
the other day
and died
riding his motorcycle
through a pink dawn,
an old Suzuki
not a Harley.
He hit a fireplug
and soared,
a missile shot
over the handlebars.
He never made a sound
landed in
a rose garden
but never knew it.
Heart attack
while airborne,
never felt the thorns.
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri. Some of his earliest work can be found at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/ and some of his newer work at http://eyeonlifemag.com/the-poetry-locksmith/donal-mahoney-poet.html#sthash.OSYzpgmQ.gpbT6XZy.dpbs
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