After three years and about five months 

(but who’s counting?) 

waylaid with two legs and a cage,

Two wheels are under me again.

She is charming and spunky, 

a dainty little princess, 

and we fit together like two puzzle pieces 

Soaking in the dusk

The smell of newly-ripened wheat

The texture of asphalt

Creating our own wind

as we fly home.