A friend wrote this. I havent seen very many bike poems. I liked it so I am sharing. She gave permission. It is part of a book of poems that she is writing about people and what they do.
Two Wheels To Go
He rides when and where he can, to work in summer,
to play in the country,
to the foothills of the mountains on a good day.
He is not preoccupied by destinations.
His attention is fixed on the realties of the way:
the traffic, the smells, the world
that confront him as he glides by.
An old car coughs and sputters at him
and he is reminded of winter
and how it dulls the body
and grips the mind in a frozen anticipation of spring.
He is comfortably situated between
the technology of his times
and the persistent rhythm of his personal history
His vehicle and his body are one; The wheels, the frame,
the handlebars, the warm hat and gloves, all a part of him.
Like the solitary grey wolf that prowls the edges of civilization
he moves silently through the city and
into the landscape of our lives.