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"Reckless Ride" (c) 1997 J.F. Kelley He is flying; on two wheels flying. The highway, a steel ribbon, curves through the enchanted trees. His wheels a blur, he is crying; His motorcycle screams, angled down toward his knees. This boy is going nowhere, fast; His helmet hot and close, the frigid air cold on his neck. Does he run away, or home at last? He doesn't know, the wind and horizon his call and beck. Between his legs, the engine thrums; The wind hammers his faceshield and glove. Inside he weeps, he is all thumbs, Unable to manage the precious thing called love. He fears he's hurt the one he wants; To cherish and care for and bring good. The thought of hurting daunts And so he rides, burns pavement through this wood. Providence perserves him now, Smooths the road, turns inquisitive deer away. He gets a chance to figure how To love his Love in a better, fuller way.

• A Visit from St. Nicholas -- To the Trailer Park
• My Love Affair with an Artist
• Reckless Ride
• Eros Electronica
• Thirteen Eyes in the Night

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