Motorcycle Hibernation

Outside is snow and cold,
a depressing sight to behold.
Because, don't you know,
things I love, hate the snow!
Baseball and motorcycles cannot thrive,
when temperatures dip near five.
So Tiger Stadium; now Comerica Park,
Stands forlorn, cold and dark.
And Rocinante, my iron horse, is not immune, of course.
In the garage he waits, cold and still,
stoically enduring winter's chill.
The bike is protected, hid under a cover,
so at least it doesn't have to see me hover.
Its electrical lifeline keeps it barely alive,
hibernating and dreaming of the next drive.
But some day, one day, birds will sing,
and all around us will be signs of spring!

I'm no poet, don't you know it, but in some manner I must mark the passing of yet another year and the sweet anticipation of a new one filled with the promise of what will be!