A Gesture to Exercise

My gesture to exercise
I call it.
This ride I take
each evening.
The dust rises behind me,
as I pedal by.
The hills stretch south
in a long line,
softened by the changing light
and comforted by the
blue of the fading day.

God knows, I need the exercise,
but it is the quiet view,
so vast and so still,
horizon to horizon,
that really brings me here.

Clouds hang weightless
above the green and gold
of the prairie
and, if I’m lucky,
I’ll see a hawk
on his way home,
like I am,
with the space and time
to feel how lucky he is.