Day 22 National Poetry Month 2015

Motorcycle, music and marbles from Donna
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Tiny marbles of rain are making our canal dance
this morning.  I watch it kicking its legs up

in exuberance and marvel at its happiness
on a cloudy day.  Or am I projecting my own

feelings onto this inanimate living thing?  Okay
I know that doesn't make sense but that's

how it seems.  Like a motorcycle isn't alive
but it is, you know?  We enjoy an occasional

ride on Gary's '67 Harley Panhead.  Listen to me,
like I know what I'm talking about!  Last summer

we and some friends rode down route 1 in Maine
to Ogunquit and had Flo's hotdogs for lunch.

Have you been there?  It's an institution.  You have
to have their house special: mayo, Flo's relish,

and celery salt.  So, so good!  Afterwards we went
to the top of Mt. Agamenticus and the bike never

complained all day.  She's a sweetheart.  See what
I mean?  The music from the raindrops is lulling

me into a fantasy land and making me mumble
about improbabilities, about happy canals and motorcycles

with feelings.  But you know I'm really talking about myself,
right?  About how raindrops carve smiles into the water.