A Free Man
Sunday morning,
On the Payette South Fork road
Fifty degrees, crisp Autumn air
As the Aspens turn to gold
Then north to Stanley, a steady sixty-five
Ponderosas tower beneath blue skies
God, its great to be alive
To feel the cool morning chill
Smell the world you're riding in
To hear the stream along the road
Take a bite of the rushing wind.
This
Beneath the Sawtooth Mountains
In the warm September sun
An SUV, black as
It roars around me at seventy –five
Blacked out windows, rolled up tight
The passengers protected from
The sunny world outside
In total, sealed off isolation,
On their sterile, joyless ride.
I pity them, for they'll never know
In their driven, hurried rage
The bite of the wind, the smell of the pine
They are prisoners in a cage.
As for me, I’ll ride until snow flies
Ride as many miles as I can
For as I ride, my spirit soars
On my bike I ride, a free man.
Copyright 2007, Bill “uglicoyote”
1 comment:
I like it UC...nicely done.
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