The sounds of the drive

The sounds of the drive short poem

The gentle creak of the suspension

as i settle into the drivers seat,

the sharp click of the key

as it turns in the ignition,

releasing the steering lock

the metallic cough of the engine,

as it starts up from rest

the reassuring rumble

as it draws in fuel and kicks in..

Ready for the drive

the muted thud of the gears,

as the stick-shift is slotted

into first the crunch of mud

under the tyres.

As we start moving,

man and car

the silent brush of the leaves,

as I pass a branch that hangs low

the startling squawk of the horn.

As i approach the intersection

the rhythmic thump of music

from the sports car that whizzes

by, the protesting squeal of brakes

as I swerve to avoid a careless pedestrian,

the loud beat of my heart as i try to calm down,

having missed him narrowly.

The ungodly cacophony at the busy traffic signal,

the incessant honking of the jeep

at the far end of the tail-back,

at the traffic light the insistent tap

at the window, as a pair of eyes peer in, hoping for alms.

The smooth swoosh of the wind at the window,

as I gather speed on the highway

the sharp swish from the puddle,

as the tyres race through the murky rainwater.

The heavy grunt of the boot,

as I go over the monstrous speed-breaker

the slow ticking of the engine as it cools down,

out-of-breath after the ride

the sigh of resignation as I step out,

having seen myself through another day.

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