Seattle 1/15/10
A violent stream of tires cut hillsides and mountain passes, carving slopes to pool spring creeks in their fall from something higher than power.  We ride on four, never ourselves touching the earth we change.  For a moment, I’ll feel the fight just feet below as if called to enlist.  I have nothing more than worry to offer.  I am never behind the wheel.

Seattle 1/15/10

A violent stream of tires cut hillsides and mountain passes, carving slopes to pool spring creeks in their fall from something higher than power.  We ride on four, never ourselves touching the earth we change.  For a moment, I’ll feel the fight just feet below as if called to enlist.  I have nothing more than worry to offer.  I am never behind the wheel.