the cool wind in my hair
as you and I glide across
the cement jungle.

You make my life tolerable
in this crazy urban landscape,
my trusty metal steed that
helps me duck and weave in
stand still traffic of the Nation's capital.

nothing like flying through the city on you, my bicycle,
on this beautiful spring day.  I know you can't speak,
but if you could, you would also say "wheeeeee" with glee.