Spring Bicycle Race
by Kathy Warnes
I admit it’s true that when I ‘m riding,
I see some traces of snow in hiding,
The wind on my face smells like grass growing,
It tickles my hand, mild and blowing.
Spring is the time of changeable weather,
When I ‘m riding I still need a sweater,
I pedal over winter ruts with grace,
I hit my brakes and let spring win the race!