I was browsing at Poetry Foundation, realizing I haven't posted anything by James Tate, a significant contemporary poet. I do believe I stumbled onto a companion piece to Altadenhiker's Sunday post.
(I also think visitor Gothpunkuncle referred us to this poem some time ago).
Of course, Tate's female cyclist strikes me as the opposite of the solitary thinker in my photo at left. Maybe they're all riding under this sky and by this farm in Ohio.
The Motorcyclists by James Tate : The Poetry Foundation [poem] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.
What do you think? To borrow a line from Diner, the Tate poem is a smile, I hope, an entertaining, comfortable ride. Does it also bring us to the question of how casual a writer can be and still command our attention? Maybe tomorrow I'll browse in Tate some more and see how often he leads me to that question.
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