Feel the Sap Rising
Men bend over bikes,
change the oil, with grins
glazed with saliva
and dreams of the road.
Butt-cracks to a breeze
that still whispers
of winter.
Men bend over bikes,
hear the calls rising,
“Come rumble and roar.
Be potent and young.
Ride under spring’s skies.
Come feel
the sap
rising.”
Note: With apologies to my daughter who rides and loves her motorcycle as much as any man could love his. She too waits for spring with excitement and wonder; waits for the first day she can ride and enjoy the sap rising.
Photo is mine.
Photo is mine.
