This Morning's Commute

I tip my helmet forward and drop my head in an unsuccessful bid to use my visor to reduce the stinging snow flying headlong into my face and sticking to my glasses. Regardless, snowflakes plaster themselves against my glasses and slide down to the bottom of each lense. Once the weight is too great the slushy mass that has collected slides off onto my cheek. The shadow of my front tire darts back and forth as the flashing light on one side briefly overwhelms the steady light on the other. My gloved fingertip wipes away the snow trying to obstruct the one light to see and the one to be seen. Stopping at red lights, I take a moment to shake my limbs and brush away the snow trying to wrap itself around me. Softly through the snow I ride.