The things I’d miss; sailing neck and neck
With the porcelain, jewel eyed gull
On a sunny morning through the park.
Other days, swifts riding my bicycle’s bow wave
Weaving patterns in the air before my spinning wheel.
I’d miss the system check of ascent and descent; first
The heart races, shouts “still here, still beating” then
Over the top and gravity’s reign loosens
And air rushes like breaking waves, the freewheel’s tick blends to a hiss.
These are the things I’d miss.
On a warm evening, climbing out of town
Passing the Irish bar, ‘Danny Boy’ in doppler effect
Spills from the doorway like a lush. A few doors up
The smell of coffee briefly joins the senses’ tableau, replaced by baked pastries, fried chicken and oregano as I climb the fast food strip.
The sun is still warm on the neck, the breeze cool on my face, the forces are balanced and I’m spinning in bliss. These things and more, these are the things I’d miss.
Hidden places, the city’s secret corners, the nuances of place, the olfactory soundbyte of a woman’s perfume as I pass, the cigarette smoke from a car window, brief snatches of strangers’ conversations spilling onto life’s cutting room floor. I’d miss the keen connection with the ying/yang of hill, of weather, of visceral life. These are the things I’d miss
If I didn’t go by bike.
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