Writing is like riding bikes, <br />you go at your own pace, <br />and carefree, carfree, go on hikes <br />where sturdy shoes replace <br />the rubber on the wheels propelled <br />by muscles and not gas, <br />while no pollution is expelled. <br />The verbal overpass <br />on which the writer writes his lines <br />gives joy to him and those <br />who excavate his mental mines <br />for poetry or prose. <br />No men on it are killed or maimed <br />not even when collisions <br />occur when bardic barbs are aimed <br />at men with different visions. <br />The highway leads to open spaces <br />where traffic has been banned, <br />and wit adorning wisdom graces <br />this cultivated land. <br />Oh, come and join me on my bike, <br />for if you understand them, <br />my words will take you where you like, <br />with me behind, in tandem. <br /> <br />In the LA Times Book Review on March 26,2006 William Gass writes: “Because books are like bicycles: You travel under your own power and proceed at your own pace, your riding I silent and will not pollute, no one is endangered by your journey––not frightened, maimed or killed––and the exercise is good for you. <br /> <br /> <br />3/26/06<br /><br />gershon hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/writing-cycle/
