I like to be undressed at the Subaru’s hatch, pulling on shorts and peering into the woods for trails and sounds of life and signs of riding. To lube chain and dial-in brakes, shifting, saddle height, alone at the trailhead or with buddies, talking smack, sneaking a hit, stretching legs. To attack the trail and…
A northern harrier drops from telephone cross pole as I ride under Dawdles low over dry cover, corn stalks with tumbleweeds With off balance ease up to another pole Never seen it dive
Worn foil expanse, flat, the St. Lawrence, gold toward Lake Ontario. Low light through emerald-blue waves breaks on the stone shore. A seagull cruises low over field of cut hay,
I W A N T T O B E L I E V E T H O R E A U B E F O R E is the name of my Master of Fine Arts thesis. It’s also the name of a poem contained therein. It is now, also, the name of this book….