Wind.
whipping at your hair
which writhes alive
as your two narrow wheels
catapult down &
       down
            the grainy earth
            in loose clouds of dust
            while you turn
corners,
trusting rubber treads
to cleave to the trail
as gravity changes
direction.

It's a steep, slick path
and all you hear
is Wind
and all you feel
is Wind
and it's like you're standing
                 still
with an avalanche
of trees
and rocks
and time
crashing past your line of vision
as if planet earth suddenly discovered
it could fly
and at that moment
you discovered
the perfect vantage point.