Silently sailing through the evening
our head and tail lights strobing.
I’m blinded by you. Riding ahead,
I joke your wicker basket glided
baby Moses gently down the Nile. 

Arm signals to no one. We ride
the backstreets. Stop signs pulsing.
Breeze wipes the heat from my cheeks.
You thank me every time I peek
and say:  “There’s no one behind us.”