by Bram

Two mile trail and I'm heading south
Smooth and fenced-in green money land on the east
Red brick foundry and industrial sickhouse on the west
Spots of shade before me in the white
I ease off the pedals and coast to a stop. 

Two mile trail and he's heading north
Long tan legs pumping in time to his own clock
shoes 
soles 
pedals slap at the pavement 
but never touching and never making a sound
on the dry and bright concrete
We nod at each other like strangers in the know. 

Eye to eye but lensed 
and hued
his moistured lips glisten in the bright
Our shadows longer than we are on 
this warm morning trek. 
His tires sizzle as he passes me
He doesn't look over his shoulder, but I do. 

Can I catch him up? 

I turn my bike on this two-mile trail 
and...suddenly...
Three mile trail heading north 
as I stand on my pedals 
and crane my neck 
the flat plains contour less and paved 
the concrete pad stretches away before me
His back to heel looks back at me
and I don't know if he knows I'm there
and he keeps his rhythm on his own time
his own clock faster than mine
and I watch him 
like a stranger who would like to be in the know. 

I feel his pace in my chest
The furnace of my lungs heating up 
on this four mile trail as I pedal on
and the stitch in my side sharpens, 
snickering at my morning desire
His pounding soles grow fainter and smaller
And to the north I glide on spinning wheels, 
A stranger who cannot know.

Copyright Frank Bramlett 2022