Motorcycle mama

you see her in the street

reacting gently

as the hogs rumble by

she can’t help herself

that soft turn towards

the sound

& you wonder if it stirs

somewhere deep inside

she was young once

loved all her boys

lost some in ways

she remembers to forget

another stuck around

now she’s a grandmother

to the one she’s pushing

a different set of wheels

but that doesn’t stop

her thoughts

of when

her hair grew yellow long

fitting those tight leather jeans

in summers so long past

now most days feel like autumn

her hair shining grey

those fading leaves

like memories

falling down

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