By chance we learned
if one of us rode in the other’s wake
we could outwit the wind.
Along canyon rims, we traded leads—
I’d pedal ahead, lean in, count the minutes
when I could drop. In the eddy,
I’d close the gap, inch by inch,
edge up from behind, until I entered
that glorious calm.
A slit separated her tire from mine,
a margin so thin one careless brush
could topple us.