Blue ice
Beneath my gloved palms
Handles sleek and
Beckoning
The engine
Kicks out fumes and
starts to sing its growling baseline
as I swing myself
Up onto the seat,
Elevated,
Motivated
The road beneath me quickens
and clarity alongside me blurs
into the sweetest sense of speed
Exhilarated
The rising horizon retreats
and beckons with
the first fingers of dawn.
Author notes
Bike journeys into the horizon just as dawn begins to rise, and that incredible sense of freedon
A contest entry
- Motorcylists Joys by misticmoonlite.
675 points, ended October 13, 11 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This was very well written.I enjoyed reading this piece. People feel free when it comes to riding...I liked it. Congrats on the honorable. Thanks for the read and keep up the good work!
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nice entry here, the freedom of the breeze in your face too seems like one needs to be out there more often, thank you for joining in
good luck
Linda
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