On The Bike by Monica Sharpe

On The Bike

crystal blue skies overhead

warm wind

whipping my long braided hair

again.

i look over his shoulder at

his strong tanned arms

golden bronzed by the sun,

hands gripping the handlebars

again.

i close my eyes and feel

the familiarity of my youth

again

and reminisce of the days

how those arms held me
before my hair turned gray.