Racing Poems


These duels remind me

Of good ol’ tour de France

Where you and me are lonely stars

Peddling in peace, pacing together

With no sight of the chasing peloton


But just before inches of the summit clash

You counter attack, jerking out of the saddle

While I respond desperately with equal gusto,

I fear some pedal may trip, send wheels crashing  

And whether I’d rather not wait like Ulrich waited