Two Wheels

Two Wheels

I have sailed above the rugged road
and felt the wind rush across my cheeks;
to the seaside I’ve spun,
skidding, kicking up waves of pebbles,
white clouds amorphous canopies
among soaring skies of blue.

I have pressed toes against pedals,
muscles flexing with the promise
of sunlit views, of hills, of trees,
of strangers on their own adventures
as I propel my eager craft,
wheels pressed to pavement.

Like a ribbon,
the road has unfurled before me,
a lavender path
conveying a machine
fueled by flesh and bone.

I have seen the squirrel race,
the lark dart,
the cautious car coast
as my breath syncopates with a world
sanctified in simple beauty—
this is what I know as God.

By Shana Genre
Shana Genre writes, teaches and parents in Portland. Her writing has appeared in The Cafe Review, Thin Air Magazine and McSweeney’s. Read more of her writing at

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