17 June 2014

The tiny bones of birds
mixed with sticks
strewn across the only path.
You keep pedaling.

What did anyone expect
you to do?
Why did you expect
anything else?
You keep pedaling.

A shrill wind, so angry
but never with you
that cuts through the pines
until their limbs stop praying
and start resisting in earnest.
You keep pedaling.

Just ahead, a clearing -
A black light lake
slanted black smooth stones for resting
black birds keeping watch
at the edges, but they don't see you.
A bright light shines through
making everything seem undiscovered,
having waited for you all this time.
Clarity descends, talons extended
candy pills rain down in ocean blue and sea mist green -
there never was any bike, of course.
The crackling of bones from beneath
is very far away and the light
is just a pale dot in the distance.
Head, hot.
Sweat, stinging.
You are thinking about how cool the lake might be
but when the thunder rolls in
the birds shift nervously on their perches and you realize
there is no time.
You keep pedaling.