Forget your favorite underwear and plush throw--
it's hard to find comfort in a thin bicycle seat
and sleeping bag, and it can't be what you're after.
A friend taught me to spell words-- 'bourgeois',
'stereo' and 'poster'--to stop crying.
Pump the brakes when no one is around
and ride in between the yellow lines.
Control is everything.
Don't think of the life you left--
ceramic coffee mugs, routine and shaving--
adventure is what you want.
If you get lonely, sing. Try to bounce
the sounds off of the mountain sides.
Skip rocks in the valleys and take in
the Nevada backdrop.
Take time each day to think of your bike's gears
and chain, the machine that drives you forward.
When you reach the border, turn back--
notice the sun shining on the asphalt--
sizzling some bugs and only burning others.
-SRM, 2013 ©
This poem came out of a prompt given by a friend. Requirement: write a poem about one thing, but really be talking about another. I am lucky enough to participate in another multi-member blog so we post and then critique each others' work; I will post a revision soon.
Tell us: How do you stay inspired?
-SM