Hermit Pond


Two wheels, and you can smell fresh mulch…

you can detect new creosote.

Two wheels, and freedom becomes less elusive,

less noticeable in a harried world.

Two wheels, and you can hear all that needs to be heard.

Two wheels, and you can go places…

never remember the names

never remember the drifting.

Two wheels, and no remembering the reason for going.

Always understanding why you came.

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