The Bicycle

The Bicycle

A ride waited, pregnant
It would tell me when it was time
To labor
Pedal up and down
Run over a million sycamore balls
Like dollhouse sized
Speed bumps

The ride would woo me
Invite me, tell me when it was time
To roll through town
Just in time to see the children scream
In sheer delight

And we are one today
One age, one child
One girl, one woman
Metal melds the years between

I passed the lumpy dog, lazy hound
Looking like a lost coat piled up in the yard
I announced that I’d lost mine and they grinned
Everyone’s a child today
Or plum tuckered out
From play

The sky called for a break
The blues and grays
Announced
We had time
To run outside and play
The town seemed to have a fire-drill
Everyone spilled out at once
After the cold, the threat of rain

And I have my bicycle
On which I can forget that I am
Not the child
Who’ll be called for dinner in awhile
Tucked in post-prayers
And seven requests for water
After the bed-bugs and boogey men
Are scared away.
And I love’s you’s are said
And I love you to Jupiter and back

No I am woman
With handle bars in hand
And a seat at home
Warm still
From meeting with a friend
Who’s cancer is in her breast
And uncertainty is lodged in her chest
But hope clings, spills from her lips.

I can sit up on my seat

Closer to the heavens
And pray, intercede
With the whirl of wind in my ears
Making noises like the empty conch at the sea
Making tears as
The wind splashes on my ears and in my face

I hid the fact that I wanted to stay and play
My bicycle and I

We are all children
Sitting perched upon our bicycles
Pedaling as hard as we can
Just trying to

Make our way back home.

In time for meatloaf, again
And
To find our lost dog in the yard.