She eased her scoot up on his side;
he glanced and gasped, "Man, what a ride!"
She smiled and twisted her right hand;
those pipes would sing like some rock band.
Not one word from him she heard
before the green light set that bird
into the wind again to sail,
and naught he saw but red light tail.
He gave to smile and watched her fade
into the night--the angel's shade.
--Monty Wheeler
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