As I rode out of the store

in my red handicapped scooter

I noticed a shiny, red motorcycle

parked alongside the sidewalk.

I couldn't help but compare the two.

They were the same shade of red,

handlebars, brakes and a basket.

About the same height, both vehicles

allowed access to summer breezes,

wildflowers on the side of the road,

sunsets, quick summer showers

and views of the mountain ridges.

The dress code was a bit different.

I didn't have leather jacket, pants

or a do-rag under my helmet.

Instead I wore casual shorts or pants

to allow for my leg brace.

We're not so different. Underneath

all of the trappings, our heart beats

with a similar rhythm, and we both

yearn to be free.