Bicycle Forest

I want a frame bag to keep cans of tuna
Close to the two-legged, two-wheeled center of gravity
Whose collective mind shaves daily
A little rubber on a lot of road

To travel thus is a varied gust
Under current and over water
Breezes visit every day
As tree lines shimmer as they sway

When a dawn becomes its day
Suns becalm and set to play
That's what work is meant to mean
As the riders thirst to glean

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