riding
Dosquatch The machine, the road and I
Dance our frantic dance,
A blur of curious shape
And color
And sound.
The engine's song,
A scream of glee
Keeps harmony with the happy note
Of tire and pavement.
The wind in my face
Brings to me the fragrance
Of cut grass
And growing corn
And cookouts and rivers and trees.

The machine, the road, and I
Dance our frantic dance
Over the twist and sway
Of the land.
A moment here, a moment there,
A moment and I am gone
On to the next
Moment, hill, twist, and curve.

Destined for anywhere
The road may lead,
Destined for nowhere at all,
Destined to wander
To lands forgotten
Alone through space and time.
A twist of the throttle
and we are free,
The machine, the road, and I.
040521
what's it to you?
who go
blather
from