While riding I often compose poetry or bits of a story. If I find a thought particularly compelling, I usually end up chanting lines to myself in my helmet, or better yet singing them over and over to some familiar melody.
I imagine I am a rather funny sight, but thankfully no one can really see me behind my tinted visor, right?
The feel of this particular day, with its warm autumnal light, sharp scents of wild onion softened by the sweet smell of woodsmoke, leaves brightening with the colors of fall, and empty roads, was a bit magical.We stopped at a park and played on the playground equipment, taking silly photos, forgetting for a moment we were adults facing middle age.
This day also piqued my poetic bent and I put together an American: Haiku in the style of Jack Kerouac, who said in Reading Notes, 1965:
"Then I'll invent
the American Haiku type:
The Simple rhyming triolet:--
Seventeen syllables?
No, as I say,
American Pops:--
Simple 3-line poems."
So please, don't look for the traditional 3 lines with a 5-7-5 syllabic beat.
Instead look for the feeling of an Autumn day, of the transient, yet beautiful nature of life, and experience a fading moment wrapped in a golden haze.
Or, you know, just read the poem, look at the photos, and smile.
Autumn Motorcycle Ride
Patchwork hills, skittering
leaves in sandalwood smoke,
your apple sweet kiss
Jeanice Eagan Davis © 2012
