Twin beat of tire spokes braid night air
into set of rapids a canoe would fall upon.
Creases of energy propel me deliriously
forward, folds of force comfortable as pillows,
wells of gravity like muscles from beneath.
My legs pound the circle of bicycle pedals
through night soft as sweater, dark, brilliant,
a night when you feel buoyant, lucky
to fall with slopes and quick drops, feel
the wheel spin more freely for a moment.
Blessed moment. It’s a night when you must ride,
because there will not be more of these nights this year.
A summer night, this evening, has cycled into Fall.

Tonight I glide through moon sere glow
night sky. Crows pace me, mask jet, diamond,
convince me stars race as hard as I race them.
I reach to ride that sky, head tipped back, dare
steel to unseat me. Lead me to the road that will
surprise me. This comfortable float. I take the
moment to rise, to breach the horizon of constant
motion, seize it, encircle it, try to be the sky, the stars
can’t just be lights, they’re more than beacons, the
punctuation of this voyage is almost incomprehensible
because the ease of this bike and the autumn night
is like the ease of a lover’s eyes, dark that shine jewels
to convince you this is the time you must be here.

My feet circle the steel of flight, my body this frame,
what’s ahead my destination, endless chain my conviction;
the road and I are both hot to go somewhere, this night must
last forever, a dream, a memory, a lazy whirlpool necklaced
with bubbles of time that spin off my paddle, my bike,
my canoe that rises to the stars, as the air surrounds me;
I rise, I float though I never stop pedaling these wheels.