For Chris
The rider who died went off in turn 8
A fast, constant radius right hand sweeper
At Willow Springs
That you take at over one hundred miles per hour
It was a novice heavyweight race
but he was no novice
in a fight for first
he and his competition
may have tried to out brake each other
or they may have been blown off course
by the wicked hot wind
they ran off into the dusty desert
his competition dismounted his ride
and tumbled through rock and sand and grit
but he did not
and he hit the wall
that lines the track perimeter
at a sufficient speed
to catapult him over a six foot high fence
and approximately twenty feet into the air
he broke his C1 vertebrae
(which is a recipe for paralysis)
and less than a day later
he was taken off of life support
as his brain showed
insufficient signal
and he was allowed to die
There is some solace
that his last thoughts
were fast ones
so he now rests
among racers
from all the ages
in a place where there is naught
but swiftness and skill
and charioteers and pilots and riders
chase lightning
wrestle hurricanes
and sprint against thunder claps
We will think of him
When the wind cracks its whip
at us, riders
And blasts its air cannon
Across Willow Springs
Speed you to
your eternal rest
Chris McCauley