Days of reckless wonder
Eyes wild, wide, as your bike rushes
to the hill's bottom like waves to the
shore.
You crash as a car nears the stop sign
and you panic, sending your hopes and
fears
skidding towards the curb, sandcastles
crushed,
engulfed, and receded into the sea,
blood leaking
into the drain, so abruptly, so
definitively, but don't stop
nor despair: mount the bike; reengage
the waves with recognition.
It's summer: high noon, high tide. In
the heat of our moment, try to catch the wind.
No comments:
Post a Comment