Black Machine

I slept restlessly last night,
I dreamt of black helmets
Dark steel machines,
gliding over grey fall roads,

Bending, arching around
Long orange pail yellow
dead turns, nothing

The growl of the machine
the lean into the turn
the stillness of my hand,
Holding the throttle

I drifted into midnight
with this meditation
in my mind, Drifted,
Midnight meditation, mind

Black Helmets
Black Gloves,
Black Machine

The eve of winter with
Falls first frosts on
Tall golden grasses
Knatted with blowing
Leaves lurching into
Corners past cornfields

Windless wind, stillness
at steady speeds of
Racing yellow lines
blinking past my
eyes close into midnight
mindless sleeping resting
into turns, banking turns

The throaty tune thundering
behind me into the pale
frosty morning of
a fall day

A black helmet
A black Machine