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.