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Morning Glory


By Max



Sometimes it's the simple things

That crease your face with smiles

Like riding into work today

Was stuck behind a car awhile

And in this car a rotty

A mass of black and tan

His head was wider than my lid

With an open window, the breeze his fan

And the smile upon that massive head

Was spread from ear to ear

As he shot the breeze rejoicing

At the day so bright and clear

I rode behind, just putting

My smile quite matching his

For we both know there's nothing

Like living in the wind

Then I looked up at the traffic lights

And far above an eagle flew

On summer thermals, surging moist

Rolling graceful, effortless

On air and nothing else

The light went green

My Harley rumbled

Outdistancing the metal pack

And pitied those whose cages stop

Them getting kicks like that.


12-7-00
Max
May not be reused without written permission of author.