it isn’t church,
 but a Sunday morning sunshine ride–
 a line of bikes glistening in waning summer heat,
 with shout-outs as loud as a preacher who
 calls his parishioners to God:
 
 Bike up!
 Bike back!
 Slowing!
 Gravel on the path!
 Car up!
 Clear!
 
 the words trickle down the line,
 heated breaths repeating them
 so loud that even prairie dogs
 stand at attention to hear.
 
 and we wrap ourselves
 in blue-sky calorie burning
 led by a fast-paced 78-year-old man,
 just as forgiving for our
 missed turns and flat tires
 as the best of His missionaries.