Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Montana Motorcycle Morning

The sky
A brilliant turquoise stone stretching to every horizon.
The air
Cool, humid, pulling back my cheeks with pleasure.
Clouds float
As pillowed white seats for Old Sol to sit upon.
Sandhill cranes,
Necks stretched out as chopper's front forks,
Fly lightly,
Riding triumphantly beside me a while.
Mountain peaks,
Craggy angles protruding like big twins' jugs,
Break the sleek form of the landscape.
Blackbirds flock,
Skittering, diving, like a pack of tiny crotch rockets.
They dance above
As I dance below on twisting asphalt.
The river roars
Heavy metal doo-wop music to cruise by.
In mountain snowmelt
Hitting hard against granite,
Trout leap
Scales like chrome flashes in the winding torrent.
Leaping into oncoming corner,
Shining spokes flashing every nuance of curve,
I feel the sun's blaze
Turn a flash of chill as I pass into shadow.
The warmth returns.
The welcome kiss of an absent lover.
The day and I are one!

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