From a Race Dad

The sky was so blue,

The sun so bright!

The trees stood so green,

And clouds their wispy white.

That day! The sun crisped colors

In just the way that makes artists crave New Mexico—

And magnified the kits to max the greens

And oranges and blues, helmets sheening,

And girls radiant in their hair.

At Pinos Altos race news was rare,

So no leaders, gaps, names.

Just pure racing that day, and pure waiting,

Ironic in that place that communicates

Most easily into the mysteries,

That very large array of riders,

Coursing under that sky

Whose every night brings

The stars within reach.

I even thought of ee cummings,

His leaping greenly spirits of trees.

And all we could see—

The sky so blue,

The sun so bright!

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