I worked with someone
at a nature center
who I never got to know
very well.
One day she mentioned
that on vacation she loved to
ride her motorcycle,
a Harley Davidson,
on trips alongside
her husband.
That surprised me, because
we worked at a nature center
situated on a curvy two-lane
along the Great Lakes,
and all summer long
the only motorcycle
I ever saw in the parking lot
was mine.
She said she never rode to work
because of the dreadful birds
pooping all over, and then
needing to constantly
wash the bike –
just wasn’t worth the effort.
I always thought it was unfortunate
she never
enjoyed the ride to work
for sake of a little
bird poop.
For me,
it was always a point of pride
that we worked at a place
so lovely, the birds also
chose to spend their time
there.
Ed Makowski sent in this poem and we liked it. He is a poet and rider from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, U.S. He's in school for journalism and rides a BMW 750, but is wrenching on a DT175 to get dirty and icy.
The photo is an Eastern Screech Owl he shot through a scope at work.