Greet (an acrostic poem)

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Giving his new teammate a fist bump seemed to be the perfect greeting

Relaxed yet said, “I feel you, my brother.”

Except the next person came up and started a whole ritual

Exchanging high fives, bows, spins, hops and ended with a modified Cossack Dance

That’s when it dawned on him that maybe he didn’t know how to …

Moist (an acrostic poem)

Mile after mile spins by as I pump the pedals

Out of every pore pours the tears of exercise

I am covered in a river of exertion

Shifting the color of my shirt three shades darker with saturation

That’s without counting the humidity

 

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