I weigh two five five.
That's far too much to carry
On a loaded bike.

I must spin today.
I've let it go long enough.
Too long, probably.

The wheel goes around,
And around and round and round.
But I have not moved.

Why does the first bit
Seem to pass much faster than
All else that follows?

How to pass the time?
Let's try writing some haiku.
That's entertaining.

I'm in a groove now.
Five-seven-five pop right out.
This is diverting.

My streaming channel
Is set to play rhythm tracks.
Cranks out tunes I like.

Yoshida Brothers,
Gramatik, Beats Antique, and
oh so many more.

Some are quick, others
more sustained.  But all of them
Evoke images.

Exotic, haunting.
Idyllic, or chaotic.
Each one has its place.

Mid-Eastern markets
Where spies chase one another
In scenes from a film.

Empty highways cross
Vast open lands devoid of
Human influence.

A sun-dappled lane
Where shade dances fluidly.
Pedals turn themselves.

Eventually
It's time to end the session.
A final track begins.

Day's-end reverie.
Sunset over a Hindu temple
or perhaps a mosque.

I've traveled today.
Far and wide, without leaving
home.  How cool is that?