Ride, roll, spin.
Gasp. As if to live I must fight for air.
Hunched, knees unnaturally near jaw
Not the poise of one who flies.
Gloves fingerless
So nails can enjoy the view.
Drink suckled from teat
Nothing odd with that.
Food strapped tight to back
An emergency parachute
Should sugar levels plummet.
Relaxed and slack jawed
Always agog.
Recording every heartbeat
Not that I’ve ever forgotten one.
Racing youth long lost
Never quite old enough to know better.
What dictates my pace I’ll never know
Hopefully quick, inevitably slow.
Forest, dark and cool,
Speed a thousand trees a minute.
Wheels point to the skies in search of heavens
And the beast lost to the ordinary of every day.
Alone.
So gloriously alone.
Hurtling back to Earth at oh my god speeds.
Adrenaline jolts the jaded weary self
Think not of rubber’s thin grip on your fate.
Fingers covering brakes
Ready in case I’m not.
Brakes squealing
Or perhaps me.
Head down
The effort begins to tell
Story of my life.
Light fades, air cools,
Road lengthens.
We slow but do not stop.
The road home fraught
A canon fire of near misses
Seconds saved, lives lost
Home
Hostage to hunger.
Where did you go?
You can share the route
But not the journey
Weak, weary, content.
Longing for sleep,
For the next ride.
I very much enjoy your poem. Thanks.
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Thanks Dave, appreciate the kind words.
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Yep, that’s got it right there! Does this mean you’re feeling it again?
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Not just yet Jen, a while off yet I think. Enjoying a sedentary life a little too much right now. Sleep, food, drink and time with people rather than bike. Slippers not cleats, beers not electrolytes, rest is sleep not a zone two ride for 100 miles! Hope you’re sticking with things, the weather’s been great for this time of year.
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You have managed to put into words precisely my experience. It’s a gift, to be able to do that. Thanks for sharing it with us.
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Thanks Gary, very kind.
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