In the June glister of moonlight,
a combustive, guttural growl
calls me to the open window.
Like a harbinger on rims & rubber—
the gunmetal silhouette of a Harley.
Chrome-polished wheels
grip the curve of the intersection,
slow down, then push on
with a galloping rumble.
The first of the season.
Lonesome voyager
ahead of the procession.
But soon
gleaming metal machinery
& leather-clad riders
will thunder through
the yawning shadows
of these backwater towns
for at least the next ten days.
In the asphalt distance
the single red taillight
burns like a match,
then vanishes under
the blue belly of night.
I press a finger to the screen.
My ears chase
with a wending lust,
after the fading throttle-chop
that gets pulled
like rainwater
into the mountainside.
I taste the warm beer
that waits on the night table.
Pull down the shade.
Beverly Hennessy Summa’s poems have appeared in the New York Quarterly, Rust + Moth, ONE ART, Chiron Review, Book of Matches, Nerve Cowboy, Anti-Heroin Chic, Trailer Park Quarterly, Hobo Camp Review, Buddhist Poetry Review and elsewhere. Beverly grew up in New York and New Hampshire and currently lives in the Lower Hudson Valley with her family. She can be found at beverlyhennessysumma.com.