This is a portrait of abandoment:
rusty spokes, faulty breaks, and negligent owners.

(I'm still lying on the sidewalk too, waiting for a reason to shift gears.)

Tell me about
your bicycle lights,
do they shine?
like embers in the
dark of night
or are they faded?
like far away stars
who omit some days
that they are there.
forget your bike.
I'll come find you.

i'm slowing beginning to see a pattern appear
in the form of the everyday actions i carry out
as i open my window to eavesdrop on the bushes
whispered conversations in the breeze
as i change the guard of mugs and glasses
that stand watch on my bedside table
as my room obsesses over mess and grows attached to dust
and cobwebs
as i swim in a thousand pots of tea
as the night meets me at our corner between dusk and darkness
as he does since every day.
riding his bicycle
stars chasing wildly after him
and we are reunited once again

Stopped at a red light,
Looking down the hill,
We wait to take flight,
We wait for the thrill.

Riding the green light wave,
Riding the small bumps and holes,
My bike and I roll down the way,
My bike and I roll as one soul.

The wheels turn quicker and quicker
While the air flies past like sweet sound.
My bike light continues to flicker,
While together we, in our music, are drowned.

There's a level of trust between us two,
We listen to each other and feel as one.
And yet there's a sense of mystery that we pursue,
That of machine and man having fun.

the cool wind in my hair
as you and I glide across
the cement jungle.

You make my life tolerable
in this crazy urban landscape,
my trusty metal steed that
helps me duck and weave in
stand still traffic of the Nation's capital.

nothing like flying through the city on you, my bicycle,
on this beautiful spring day.  I know you can't speak,
but if you could, you would also say "wheeeeee" with glee.