Sixty years ago,
the two of us rode tricycles
up a little hill
behind our school.
Nothing stopped us till
mothers called us home.

Sixty years later,
we ride mountain bikes
in this wilderness.
We'll keep pedaling till
someone takes our bikes.
We know that someone will.

Your wife told me
you haven't been
to church in years.
She's worried
about your heart.
Skips a beat?

Let's stop for coffee
and you can fill me in.
There's not much time.
Maybe we should stop
for a beer instead.
There's a cliff ahead.

Donal Mahoney

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-s-a-cliff-ahead/