August 28, 2015

ride through tunnels of towering treetops
that shelter the grandeur of Connecticut’s mansions
white siding glows in the afternoon sun
I pass
even a little red Corvette
laugh at the predictability
of stereotypes

must admit I miss
the brick and stone
of the east coast

pass girls playing basketball
at West Salem High School
makes me smile
makes me want to feel beaded rubber
spinning between my palms

my bike feels heavier
as the day unwinds
rips my muscles apart
to rebuild my strength

Sotheby signs stand vigil
outside the houses for sale
in Litchfield

red, orange, yellow
leaves peeking through the green
beckoning fall
I understand the seasons
are in-scripted in the folds of my memory

ride by weathered barns
and countless stables
New England is so patriotic

“someone who rode across the country
deserves a room with a view”