Sped up with heavier thoughts still headed for the pedal. Cyclical thought patterns—their orbiting repetition misunderstood as a sign they are racing on a track. So, self-defeating acceleration guns it ever more. That is, until I cry out, shaking with untried wisdom: the point is to live a day slow and full! That I may not miss the sights it offers despite whatever ambitions, whatever regrets are tailing me now. Pass or put up with my pace. Today is what I’ve come to see.