Friday, August 22, 2014

Not good biking weather


I sit near the door
man in tights
black Lycra shorts
my favorite jersey
six-years-old
yellow helmet tucked
under my arm
I sit near the door
waiting out the rain
my mind on the asphalt
I should be biking but
I’m not so instead I read
a poem or think I read
a poem or imagine I read
a poem, Luci Shaw perhaps
hiking a rocky seashore
or Wendell Berry walking
the woods and keeping
the Sabbath especially
in the rain
I don’t need trails
in the woods or rocky climbs
by the seashore, not today
anyway instead just a ribbon
of asphalt that replaced
the railroad tracks that
carried dreams then
but now the dreams
are carried only
on two inflatable tires.
It’s still raining.

Photograph by George Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.


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