The latest prompt at Writers Island is "lost highway". It made me think of Reecer Creek Road, way out in the sticks, where I go biking on Saturday mornings. It's a long, straight stretch of worn asphalt with a strong headwind, a slow but steady incline, and a wide enough shoulder for me to ride on—which is good, because the speed limit is 50 mph, and I prefer not to have to share the road when folks are driving at such a good clip. Actually, I don't see much traffic at the early hour when I ride, which is one of the reasons it feels like a lost highway. I love it when the sun comes up across the Whisky Dick Ridge, illuminating the hay fields and making even the cows look heavenly.
So here's a little biking poem...
Slipstream
Momentarily
I may have pulled ahead but
don’t forget to wave
and shout “Left!” as you
pass me on the path to
perfection.
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3 comments:
Poetic biking sounds good :-)
Waving and shouting to you. Sounds like a great stretch of highway to explore.
Great post! I love the poem title and the images that you've written into this piece!
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