Elegy for a Motorcycle

Sometimes I know I still have you
and I hurry round the side of my small house,
the sun a stinging fire in my eyes,
and find you waiting
in the orange blaze of a dream

And all the comfort of myself is in your saddle
and I wear all the selves I’ll ever know
in my old bluejean jacket,
and I am once again, Arkansas Slim,
and I hop on your back like a flea in the wind
and we just ride forever,
we just ride