I can't see up close, anymore, without glasses; br I think that's why I bought the motorcycle. br Now, when I wake alone, in the dark before dawn, br instead of wondering why God left me here, br I can look out the kitchen window br at that black beast gleaming on the sidewalk br and wonder why I bought the motorcycle. br My sons and daughters, now become br the grownups of the family, are bound to say br 'You're going to kill yourself'; br yesterday, when I bought the thing, br and sneaked it out of town br to try its power and my nerve, br without plates, helmet, or front brakes, br I thought the same thing, br but I was out to find br where these hills come to Heaven. br br When my wife died, I stayed with Mom, br a widow, long those many years, br and found a friend; she told me once br 'When I was just a kid, br there was a train came by our town br they called the Sunnyland Express; br we kids would shiver there, out on the tracks br to see who'd be the last to run br when the Sunnyland Express came thundering down.' br I laughed, and said, 'What did you call that game, br 'Leaving on the Sunnyland Express'? ' br br Now, on the edge of winter, br in these last warm days that I can ride, br I think of Mom, br and how the winter always comes; br and of my callow joke, br and how she wore her wedding ring until br the Sunnyland Express came whispering by br on its way to summer.