Why is he riding his bike

Around the tracks of my path?

Cycles keep turning as tides bring waves,

But still the wheels creek.

He’s watching, as he awkwardly disguises

The fact that he finds me …

Now he talks he seems to be trying

To woo me from the fence:

“A poem?” He asks.

His bike! It falls to the ground!

He picks it up -leans upon it and resumes

The viewing.

Hastily I collect myself for I am no show

“Do not follow me, OK?” I say as I go.