this is just to say
i have left
my bicycle on its rack
with the garage door open
you will walk out the door
drive to the store
and buy mint chocolate chip
that will sing in my mouth
take the bicycle down
electronically shut the garage
and remind me again
how i married perfectly at twenty.
you are more than a storm
an obstinate endlessness of cold
hovering over spring
with the arrogance of winter
i wish i could tie down those flags,
see the sun shine on my skin
and roll up and down hills
without a push or a pelt
but i can match you, i can beat you.
summer will come soon enough
i will relish the bearing-down heat,
sweat seeping, laughing at our obstinacy.
For Jim(my)
i picture you at fourteen
gangly and awkward
bottlebottomed glasses
curly close-cut locks
riding your bike across the bridge
wearing the same three outfits
all summer long
diving into the swimming pool
down the block
and playing right along
with our nine-
and eleven-year-old games
i was in love.
it didn’t matter that you were my cousin
almost six years older
and lived across the country.
you were nice to me
made me feel at home
in that strange and cavernous house
where Grandpa and Grandma
ordered KFC
and watched TV all day
instead of fixing decent food
or paying attention to us.
you rode across the
highway bicycle bridge
and entertained us every day
and carried me on the back
of your dirt bike
on our camping trip
and talked and talked and talked
like no one else in the family would.
i still remember those words
those cyclical wheels
that sent my mind spinning
and the smile you carried
through all that was dark,
the fourteen-year-old boy
who redefined family
in my little girl eyes.
Soon to be gone
Never so beautiful
Ogling along the route
Windless blue sky
Dancing inside my skin
Always a good day to ride
Yesterday forever on my mind.
Strength within, strength without
Arching back to match the slope
Turns that take us up and up
U-shaped curves that bring us down
Rising without falling
Diligence redefined
Awesome adventure
Yearning for another ride.
i can’t see
the environmental impact
of the roads
ski areas
and mines along the way.
only the blue sky
long absent
longingly awaited
the sun hot on my skin
waterfalls pouring
from every crevice
of Rocky Mountain rock
and snow still standing
obstinately against all predictions.
i will take this pain in my muscles
to bed with me
as i listen to the roaring river
and try to remember
this perfect planet
we’re destroying
but for now
for today
i am blinded by blue.
i will remember
the pain starting at mile thirty-four
the wind at twenty-six
the snow at thirty-nine
i will remember
the endless rolling hills
the cloud-encrusted Pike’s Peak
the socks over my double-gloved fingers.
i will remember
the ninety-eight-degree Kentucky
the mile-long hills
the luxuriant lack of wind.
i will remember
your wide and comfy couch
your set out towel and hot shower
hot chocolate waiting for me.
i will remember
four kids playing cars
three girls dyeing eggs
muscles sore for days.
i will remember this day
thirty-three degrees
sun and snow and wind
everything blowing around in my mind.
you never end
you never begin
you are neither here nor there
you are lost to all touch
yet i feel you everywhere
you are my strength
you are my weakness
you are everything i hate and love
you are the epitome of endlessness
yet i feel you nowhere
you are the spring
you are the fall
you are the song that sings
you are the night and day
yet i feel you sleeplessly
you are behind me
you are in front of me
you make me who i am
you make me who i don’t want to be
yet i will never escape.
i’m hard-pressed to find
my miles, my mind today,
my ambition to walk down the hall
my muscles are as hard
and weathered
as stones through a storm
it’s only 9:36.
i still have four classes and
a stack of papers choking me
my mind is as scrambled
as the scattered papers
left behind by a class of forty
soon i will change into layers
of cycling clothes, clip in my shoes,
and pedal my way to a better attitude.
you are the hole in my tube,
tiny as a pin prick,
a puncture wound,
not for one second
able to hold the air
i fruitlessly pump.
your removal is tedious,
leaves road remnants
and layers of unwashable dirt
on my palms and fingertips,
takes an extra set of hands
and real strength to complete.
i haven’t the strength
to discover how you ruined my day,
only the muscles to move on,
to accept that you’re now
lying on the floor of my garage,
a haunting shadow
that tries to follow me everywhere.
Isabella: 58
Mythili: 47
Riona: 45
Tagalong: 10
Trailer: 8
Bicycle: 6
Kite: 0.1
Me: 120
(all in pounds)
Wind: 15 (mph)
Miles: 9
These numbers don’t add up.
But I beat the shit out of that hill today!!!
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