Poem: Dawn Rider

It's been a while since I've done a poem on here. And what better time than in the afterglow of Burns' Night? In the aftermath of injury I've been getting the bus to work rather than cycling - am only just back on the bike - and have been envious of those I see shooting past early in the morning from my bus.

Bone cracker frost and sliver moon
First cuppa tea can't come too soon
eyelids gummed at bus stop... zoom!
   From out the dawn
   a man machine
   pale taut and trim
   horse breathing steam
Oh the chill! from belching bus
we'll look down on his soft pale pus
but now he passes, eye to eye
a god in Lycra.