Autumn Rides

There were nights when we would ride
on empty country roads, in the autumn.
Open-faced, the wind whipped my skin
and tossed my clothing as we flew.
I remember it well, that sweet smell
of honeysuckle and sepia leaves
the deafening engine beneath us
as I clung to you, as we roared
past golden fields and ochre trees.
Half-terrified, half-elated
I would raise my face to the sky
and watch the stars move with us,
and slowly I stretched out my arms
to the world, and was free.