Last Sunday Morning Ride Of October

Rode out solo on this chilly morning
Fingerless riding gloves left fingers
chilled to the bone

In the darker shadows
thought I’d see my breath in the air
but it wasn’t there

Lightly marbled sky
Feather-light brushstokes
to the northern horizon

Sol’s QR codes
seared into the path
and the Barrio’s walls

Rode the Julian Wash Greenway
to the Mercado
No one passed me either way

Even the Mercado was
listless and empty
no commerce yet today

It was a meditative ride
No, composing word paintings
for rendering on this page

Incandescent amarillo
Brittlebush blossoms crowded
the path shoulders on the trip home

Ending the last
Sunday morning ride of
October

–LE – 10/26/25