You may wait and wait for the perfect day
That will make the ride the best you say.
The day will come after many have past
But your tires are flat and you’re not so fast.
Better to take the days as they are
Not waiting for weather in a bar.
The sun will shine or the clouds may bare
Witness to your messy long hair,
From under a good helmet
You wore all the way to work.
The clickety clack coming from your feets
Turns heads not expecting to see you in cleats
You know they lust after your legs.
Stares lasting longer than kegs.
You are proud of the effort that has gotten you here
Yet you would be happier if they offered you beer.
Now after a while the days come and go
And you haven’t given thought to the snow.
So the mind wonders to an old proverb,
Not jaunty or witty nor even superb.
There’s no such thing as bad weather
Only bad clothes made out of feather.