Friday Night Date Ride

Sitting at an outside table of an unnamed hot beverage establishment, several motorcycles passed by a brightly lit intersection. Now, on the surface this would seem to be fairly mundane – but hey; this is a motorcycle poetry blog ya know!

/////////////////

Headlights bright dazzle pavement dark,

the date, she rides behind.

Wait in string of sparkle lights,

green means – escape the grind.

—–

Evening air, fatigued but fair,

the date, her arms are mine.

Mirrors reflect the vendors mark,

and flailing hair so fine.

—–

Is Friday night for steady dates;

or simply time to scout?

As watchers age with coffee mates,

his steady rides or pouts.

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