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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