The sun creeps along the horizon, a common criminal
Stealing my daylight, my warmth
The engine reluctantly wakens and surges to life
Wheels crunch over a carpet of frost
The pavement is hard,
the acceleration feels good
Cold air invades every crevice of my clothing
My warm breath spawns a mystical fog in my helmet
The trees have withdrawn their green blood , exposing their
true colors
In a final glorious display they lose their grip on life and
fall to earth
My senses become even more alive as the bike weaves through
each corner
The smell of apples fermenting on the ground
Leaves decaying to bring forth new life in the Spring
Small chicks a few months ago, Turkeys dart before me
Geese overhead follow that thief the sun
The white hair of winter gleans on the mountain tops
The road snakes up
Past onlookers of spruce and oak
Hustling squirrels play chicken
Faster
One with the road, one last time
No comments:
Post a Comment