Just outside the Concord Rotary,
there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts
where I like to stop on my way home
from New Hampshire.
There were polished motorcycles with sidecars
in the parking lot.
Inside, ten bikers
in full regalia, studded leather, big boots,
Harley jackets, tattoos—men and women.
This was not a midlife crisis:
they were wrinkly and frail looking.
Two of the women had long, long
grey and white hair
streaming down the back of their
heavy black jackets.
No Botox or liposuction,
everything not covered in leather
sagged and puckered.
They were smiling, exuberant,
got their decaf
and bran muffins
and pretty much took over the place.
I got coffee and sat in a corner,
staid and dull
in my black business suit
and blunt cut hair.
Couldn’t take my eyes off them
and, back on the road,
for miles I kept smiling.


From Thank Your Lucky Stars (Moon Pie Press, 2011).
Used here with permission.