Move

As I feel the breeze,
oh what a tease.
I feel the brush of air,
moving from here to there.

The sound of the move,
I feel so in the groove.
The strength as it flows,
inexorably shows,
the effect of traction,
the moving reaction.


This breeze in my hair,
I cannot despair,
as the miles go by,
I see the blue of the sky.


A cloud looks at me
what does it see?
A blur of movement,
moving towards
constant improvement
at a loss for words.