Date: Wed, 8 Jan 1997 08:02:30 -0800 (PST)
Title: Memory flight

Full moon early morning desert crisp air brushes my face,
Sis rides beside me within inches, each of us on a separate track.
My mind, tingling with peyote vibrations as road shadows race
across the wash ahead, listens absorbs remembers images stacked
one upon another, Azi calling, "Harley..," a name, My NAME.

Out of the corner of my mind's eye I feel Sis glance my way,
her thoughts gently urging the forgotten to break into the flames
of knowing. A cessation of the hunt, memory being the prey.
A bric-a-brac of memories cross before me, old thoughts rise and fall,
near dawn, as we speed away from Azi's den of herbal vapours.

*bric-a-brac \'brik-*-.brak\ n [F bric-a'-brac] : a miscellaneous collection
   of often antique articles of virtu : CURIOS.

later,
d.

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1.The one true American-made motorcycle is the Harley-Davidson, and thou
        shalt put no other motorcycles before it.
        -From the 10 Commandments of Harley-Davidson-
        http://execpc.com/~jschwarz/rmhfaq/faqv2_11.html
                               ,^_ ,-.
                            ()'  \_/()

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