Untitled - January 20, 2002

What starts as a
leisurely trip
across the hilly state
becomes a slow meandering
through every nook and cranny.

Stopping time and time again
to watch the pale peach and pink hues
dust hillocks and distant shadows.

In a moment of impulse,
a deft touch of the fingers
shifts all gears upwards - 
bringing the subtle hum
to a subvocal roar of pleasure.

Moments pass quickly
even as the surfaces grow slick
and the sense of anticipation increases -
where the danger of crashing
vies with the thrill of the ride.