on the trail today,
I thought of something
I wanted to say
I told myself
I would remember, but
nothing's there
perhaps I wanted
to mention I had seen
a dozen bikes
peddlers whizzing by under
cloudless sky, with no whipping
winds to ****** them
where the prairie's rude
riding gusts were hiding,
I do not claim to know
wherever they chose to go
their sabbatical left surface
waters calm, blue
but that's not what I had to
tell you--tales of cyclists unperturbed
by a stiff breeze
i said i wouldn't forget
and yet, here I am rambling,
scrambling to recall
what inspired me most
of all: not nascent blossoms or
butterfly wings, of all things
but the absence of an invisible
symphony, a silenced howling from
the sky's spectral lungs
i said i wouldn't forget; tomorrow
surely the winds will blow, and I will
catch whatever they meant to say