Wheels in the rain

The writing magazine competition is on the theme of the wheel.  I've tried to write about a time in the 70s using a form of poetry called the Terza rima, thinking its tight rhythm and rhyme structure would be like the turning of a wheel.  It's proved very difficult and it's definitely not competition standard - the formality of the structure doesn't sit well with its subject which needs a looser approach -   so I'm happy to publish it here as a first attempt. 


Driving test newly passed, I take the wheel of my father's car
To drive through sheets of rain in unfamiliar autumn night
The only one amongst my friends brave enough to drive so far.
With teenage bravado, recklessly I swallow down my fright,
Grip the wheel,  tune out their excited chattering and refrain
From joining in - eyes fixed on the car ahead's rear light. 
Journey's end we pile out, soon wet through but too high to complain
We run past big wheel, rollercoaster, wooden pier, to Southend's
Kursaal. Breathless we spot our hero lit up on stage again,
Push to the front, dancing and singing until the concert ends. 
That night shines bright in my memory, it somehow set the bar -
Despite the fear, the sense of holding the fate of all my friends
In my two hands sweating on that wheel - nothing could mar 
The joy of travelling that rainy night to see our favourite star.  

© Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved 

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