Gone Out Adventures

Before my eyes
blacktopping lay
Along invites
the quickest route

Miles to go,
where friends await
I set upon the
two-lane way

Early morning
Styles daylong quiet;
Along the road
I get more gone

sleep’s warm blanket
vague, forgotten
Away, it’s here—
Blacktop sound

Two tires roll on
my pedals pump
under command
until frightened

when slowing van
gave chase four-wheeled
more powerful
motorized sound

Only weight of
my existence
could detain me—
new command: run!

Forget the bike
jump the fence, take
to the woods—they
lose interest. Phew!


Photo by Kaique Rocha on Pexels.com

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CHANCE

Countless consequences, oft-begotten
through no fault or want, only events
Minority of which chronicled or observed
merged to obscure truth, fit perception

Perhaps fallen on your feet, flaming
Your heart a timbered land, smoke under fire
Tree of life smothered, withered
Before hope, the greatest inspiration

Self-made or given, earned
From oceans of despair, discovered
Prized for its plausible value—chance
No more than possible

Opportunity for something
Different than the paradoxical
Hap’nings undergone as subject or
Merely matter of circumstance