It is not a day for bicycles
As she pedals downhill into a blustery headwind
A coldness just off pinpricking snow
Head down and hands burning
But, on recollection
T'was warm this morning
Spring-like, even
And with the wind behind her
She rode most of the way
With no hands
Arms out like a bird
Wind assisted
She avoided a late note
And a firm look
She is a teacher she should be on time
She is not meant to have fun
On the way to work
Deliciously so
Sunlit so
Whoops it was an accident
And she probably should use hands
She was wearing a helmet though
Model citizen she is
yes
But now she struggles
To get home to her dog
Who will be curled in the smallest of balls
In the back corner of the shed
Blown this way then that
She almost has to zigzag
Like a sailor cutting in too close to the wind
Hang on
Concentrate
Pedal
Don’t run into a parked car.
She spys a smug skateboarder
Jacket spread out like a sail
Gliding in the opposite direction
Oh but only if she lived to the south
She would not have to ride home into a
Northwesterly
But t’would be so much more harder
To get to work at all
Let alone on time
With a no-handed song in her heart.
