It takes trust to ride your bike
on Silverado Trail, curving rise and fall of road
mesmerizing drivers who don’t always
pay enough attention to avoid hitting you.
You think your neon yellow jacket
keeps you safe,
like some golden poison dart frog
in the rainforest,
throwing out luminous yellow
to warn predators the taste might be sweet,
the aftermath not so much.
Enough poison to kill ten people,
that tiny frog.

On your bike you are thinking of
wind in your face, sweat
on your brow, meal to follow,
sweet embrace of your spouse,
not of the driver approaching,
wine-soaked, sleepy-eyed,
or simply thinking of his own dinner.

Perhaps we trust too much.
Without it there would be no
bikes on the road, or cars.
Civility may be going downhill
fast, but we still trust our good fortune,
lucky stars, and each other.

After a career in education as a teacher and administrator, Lenore Hirsch writes humor about aging, features in the Napa Valley Register, as well as poetry, short stories, food and travel pieces. In 2018 she will publish a poetry collection, Leavings.