Monday, January 10, 2005

No hands

It was three miles
or more from Mike's
house all the way
into town.

Riding with arms
straight out for balance
and pedaling strong
and steady.

I was eleven and
never felt more free
and alive than that
particular day.

I remember it still
and sometimes talk about it;
about the time I rode
all the way from Mike's
house into town
with no hands.
You know his name (2)

He was a compelling speaker
Connecting with his audience.

Empathetic, he looked you
in the eye and
felt your pain.

Then he continued
to talk, and talk and talk

Now your eyes
glazed over.

He "had you at hello"
but now it was
time to say goodbye.