our kitchen table
grandpa’s seagram’s-seven-crown amber glow
two shots rang out
half-shot poured for me
just beyond an angel’s share
he jumps up
i fall down

as he knuckle scrubs my buzz-cut head
with a baritone
two-lane asphalt accent
he bellows
“today we ride”
                 i smile

twelve in ‘sixty-four
my lanky legs straddle
black leather saddle
we mount grandpa’s steel stallion
king of motown
                   i reign

fifty-five horses below
open road ahead
my skinny arms
become his leather vest
                                no me no he just we slow neighborhood drive
friends’ jaws drop
under heavy harley spell
eyes turning green
                            i almost nod


fifty shortest-ever miles
straight-away speed
roadside ice-cream
chocolate dipped      
                               nuts sprinkled
full-throttle towards home
i scream


hair in the wind
souls in the wild
just me and gramps
beyond borders heading west
                               on his iron appaloosa            

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