Joy Ride

Wind all over me –
Beating my face, slapping my hands,
Whistling in the ears,
Rushing to the mind –
Scattering away thought streams,
As I ride the pillion with my man.

The motorcycle growls, roars
Road unfurls endlessly
Green grass blur seamlessly
Blue umbrella skies, cloud tufts, pale moon awaits
Through the tree canopies of late spring
Into the ever-changing lines of the horizon

I ride the pillion with my man,
Without a care – tranquil, meditative

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