Brothers

The temperature drops and the snow is blowing,

my bike is parked but we both should be going

on a ride to somewhere we’ve never been,

Hills and curves and places we’ve seen.

Park and reflect on past rides we’ve had,

summer days and blue skies are never bad.

But the gray skies are winning out today,

I ride alone,  for lost friends along the way.

But I’ll take the cold for I have no choice,

“A ride is a ride” I can hear his voice.

And a friend is a friend as we’ve all heard,

together we ride with our fists forward.

We never ride alone although it looks that way

to those who don’t know or to what they say.

But alone we’re not for I can see

my friends and brothers riding beside me.