Autumn Bike Ride
Honey gold October sun
lights a caravan of leaves
drifting through crisp forest air.
Come December these trees
will wear coats of snow but
this morning, fall glows with
the reason we have the word
beautiful. And through all this
color my friend steers
his mountain bike, the tires
snapping brittle branches,
as he rides alone with love
of this cinnamon brown
morning, his one and only
moment to live between
yesterday and tomorrow.