Keeping His Line

the wind was howling
like a crazed animal, coming from
one direction, then another,
falling back, only to lunge forward
with renewed venom.
it was tough riding, yet
you would never know it
from watching his line.
He never wavered, cutting
through the wind as if it
weren’t there, or was not worthy
of his attention.
Ahead, a rider dodged in and out,
half wheeling to the left, to the
right, falling back and pressing forward
with the wind.
i rode in his wake, completely protected,
moving slightly up or back, to the left or
the right to find that sweet spot where
the wind didn’t find me,
never having to worry about whether
he would keep his line.

Thank you, S., for being so steady in the wind, no matter from where, or why, you're always there.