Risk

//risk

subject is RISK

tisk
fist

tanka or haiku

On the steep hill car
wheels spun in snow. I raced the
motor, roared past all.


On the mountain pass,
I wait for snowplough dragon,
stuck as an igloo,
spinning wheels in spitting ruts
by pine trees bowed down with snow.

Singleminded, like
a skipping stone on water,
while snowflakes swirl out
of black night, coat the windshield,
I roar now through driving snow.

I slide along the
road, slippery as
a leaking orange.
If I careen into snow,
will the dragon snowplough come?