Manifestation Memoire<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The swoop of the Purple Martin on its approach slope to its nest; the swoosh of air ruffles his plume. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soaring, a familiar sensation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I have seen the skies up close; flown high as the clouds; felt the charge, riveting. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My wings, I tip playfully, pretending not to notice the female pilot flying starboard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another day, another flight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Still, I sense a need to touch my wheels to the pave. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cut through the breeze like a plane, but hugging the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Similar, yet juxtaposed, soaring midair or bike gripping the dirt path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hunger runs my veins as I anticipate another ride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Couldn’t ask for better weather; sun and cloud, a perfect mix.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad mounts his Harley. I roll down the driveway hill on mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looks happy in my company. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I catch a glimpse in a wide store window. Good looking bike, if I may think so myself. My red ‘Street Glide’… sweet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tomorrow back to flying my ‘Alpha Trainer’ for hire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For today though, it’s the joyride that conquers, sharing this with my dad. Something he, too, shared with his father.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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