The Ride

Looking at the bike in the garage,
I drank in the helmet hanging on the handlebars.
The kickstand down, the whole bike up,
ready to be of service.
Sitting in a dusky garage,
with only a small window to show the light,
the most wonderful feeling
slumbers in the most unlikely place.
Taking the bike out onto the driveway,
it almost seems to wake up.
Casting off the blanket of sleep,
it stretches and gets ready.
Once I'm on the bike, it seems like a horse.
It was anxious, now that it was awakened,
to be off and about.
Pedling out of the driveway is like taking flight,
chasing the unknown and infinity.
Once we have begun the ride, the bike and I,
We have succeeded: We have escaped.