a wasted training
a waste of district dollars
a waste of my day
but at six-thirty
they shoveled mud off the path
giving me my ride
at least there’s a view
a day’s cycling release
to shed off the waste
biking
Cycle Through It
a flooded river
can’t keep pedals from the path
when at last there’s sun
A Wing. A Prayer.
my incompetence
measured with twenty stray marks
and one rude comment
let us speak the truth:
your presumption has failed us
and i have lost faith
i pedaled uphill
for incomprehension. served
with sarcastic sides
my happy birthday:
giving up my Saturday
for a wing, a prayer
but the bike saves me
the cuddling girls save me
the cheap wine saves me
(how singularly
simple English verbs can be)
lost in translation
now, my Spanglish wish:
let my tongue thrive like my legs
uphill pedaled dreams
Silver Streaks of Rain
with my old playlist
i fight an uphill battle
pedal into wind
your words lost on me
abandonment tastes bitter
as you once told me
silver streaks of rain
cross winds with old memories
i. never. give. up.
ten minutes to spare,
i make my destination.
(you are nowhere near)
my life without you:
la lengua extranjera
que no puedes ver
Back in the Saddle
back to riding bike
some scary moments by creek
(fear is in the mind)
what better Earth Day
than a late-night class commute
via bicycle?
Cycling through the City
teary-eyed ending
to fifteen-mile bike ride
oh, but donut grin
we stopped at projects
perfect playground, tire swings
Africans playing
(my dream neighborhood:
kids play outside, not with screens
poverty beats us???)
my middle child
pedaling through our city
here: my home, my heart
The Cyclist’s Dilemma
he will not forgive
shuns me in once warm places
i will not forget
in tears, she begs me
just get them started–i can’t–
grief bursts into halls
all papers graded
i read Spanish in silence
wait for final bell
a windy walk home
trailed by one-car dilemma
my cyclist shines
headlamp, gloves ready
January? my mistress
cycle through my stress
my peace offering:
the book he wanted to read
(he puts me on stage)
humiliate me?
i crave the Spanish smiles
he doesn’t know me
a windy ride home
cold clings to my clothes with hugs
cheeks on girls’ warm cheeks
this brief moment here
is all i’ve seen them today
my cycle spins on
This Park is Our Church
this park is our church
(we rode past three on the way)
god is in details
dress-obsessed oldest
on a limb over a lake
this windy fall day
blessed to have new friends
and her two shadow sisters
nothing like my youth
(how i would have loved
my sister to include me–
just to be my friend)
outdoor play keeps them
a ring of companionship
beauty comes in threes
we don’t need sabbath
just the joy of our family
god lives in us all
The Longest Mile
just one mile walk home
to car-shop drop-off frenzy
begin evening stress
science fair project
won’t keep quiet on my mind
leaves alleviate
no avocados?
two wheels, backpacked ride to store
guacamole dreams
oldest cycles home
begins three-shower cycle
all by six-forty
spicy tacos rest
on spicy dream-home dispute
taste still in my mouth
all ’cause he worked late
foreshadowing our future:
crap hours, low pay
sacrifice my peace
for shut-in civility?
i’d rather be poor
rich are days with him
those hours in his absence?
a chronic longing
even the girls cry
as they will with no ‘good nights’
tears don’t buy us time
the two-income trap
snagging our life with more debt
all for image, greed
just one mile walk back
where refugee students wait,
offer perspective
Wheels and Deals
lunch date spin cycle
soaking up blue sky autumn
park hopping joy ride
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