Breath sharp, fast, rasping
Legs pumping, hands grasping
Verdant roads span and greet
As the cyclist pursues the endless street
Eyes fixed, heart pounding
Ears churning, awareness mounting
The dun worn out wet push and sprout
As mud sprays as labours spent
Resolve quick, distance to further
Ground to cover and steam roll over
Pistons firing as engines hum loud
This bikers flight relies on no crowd