Living in the Ride

Living in the Ride

Riding in the world,
I hear the meadowlark’s song
I taste the dust coming off
The wheat field harvested
As I pass by

The sound of the wind
The sound of the wheels
The rumble of the engine
With these sounds,
Every moment I ride

In the distance a thunderstorm
Watch it grow, see the lightning.
Soon to feel the sting of drops
Cooling skin too long burned
By the high plains sun.
Long days in the wind

The fresh smell of falling rain
The sweet smell of freshly cut hay
The smells of asphalt, fuel, exhaust
Mingle with the odor of yesterday’s roadkill
The living and the dead,
All with me as I ride

I pass a car
In the back a small face
nose to glass, a wave
a smile, perhaps a dream.

I’m in the moment,
Living in the ride.

Copyright 2007 Bill “uglicoyote” Davis