It’s the full chassis’ hum that kicks a spray to every side.
The ashy harness clutched that bucks,
Shivers, rips coldly into a glide.
Every diversion is a turbulence of concatenate kind,
Shared web trembling waves, each announcing life.

Yes – from the tremor of wind and water to
the heron’s calligraphic precision –
Everything. Everything always moves. Even you,
The machine-rider, throned high.
Keeping dry while streaming sea into sky.

If you dig in your heels and pull wide, you might feel it:
The lurch of your own wake.
Awash in your own life.