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The Morning Ride
The birds begin to sing;
you make your way
out the garage door
with an old blue bike,
and down the eerie road
you like to call “Snake Hill”.
The road is filled
with loose rubble,
dangerous potholes, and
gnarly trees that hunch over at the base.
Out of the murky trenches
and there you see it;
the rainbow-marbled monument
that marks the greatest hill
of Luuwit View Park.
As you ride past the plentiful fields
of freshly-cut, drizzled-on grass
and a worn-out skateboard rink,
the warm sun gradually makes its return
to greet you.
You smile big;
the corners of your mouth
pulling to the widths of your face,
unbeknownst to the crisp winds
jabbing at you from ahead.
There, you spot
a dark murder of crows
cutting through the mellow sky.
They flew into the distance
of what seemed to be Heaven.
Sun-kissed wheat, ivory dandelions,
and amber-dyed butterflies
scattered along a vast meadow;
the lightsource of Earth
casting away
the root shadows.
With short, adolescent legs
that barely touch the ground,
you manage to stabilize yourself
to take in Mother Nature’s finest.
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This piece is based on a childhood experience riding my bike along the paths of a neighborhood park. The story is written in second-person point-of-view to take the reader along a sensory experience and feel the emotions of an early spring morning ride. Although it is mostly based on a first-hand account, there are also fictitious elements included to express the journey in a more colorful way.