Where is that fool going?
It’s not the sound of a distant train whistle.
That Harley is not mellow or lonesome.
At 5 AM that sucker is just plain loud.
A twenty year-old male,
Forced to rise this early, wants company,
Or maybe he just likes waking the neighborhood.
He'll be out of range in two minutes, but I’m
awake.
His damn music competes with the bike’s engine,
Ensuring that those along his morning path
Share his ride, at least acoustically.
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