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Afternoon Bike Ride

needed to add air to the tires
because bike hadn’t been ridden in weeks
waited until the last minute to go
down the stairs with bike in hand
never as easy or elegant as imagined

on the road
remembering how to pedal
finding balance
awkwardly at first and then
finding flow

past the factory
that always smells of popcorn
a child playing with a new
drivable car

through the shards of glass
from a broken car window
spilled into the bike lane
cursing and a silent prayer that the tires
are not punctured
didn’t see the glass until it was too late

past the homeless man who yelled
hey baby, give me a ride
don’t look back, don’t acknowledge
keep peddling

brisk winter afternoon ride
to meet a friend for
a catch-up and some tea