Cadel Evans takes the yellow jersey and I race round the corner to the highway late for work thinking and rethinking whether or not to stop…
Should I stop?
fast corner, watch the paint lines, your tire could slip
I’m already late, I should stop.
Car coming, pedal.
I could stop, turn back.
The sunshine will never be shining there tomorrow
the broken bottle with the torn orange label
what was it?
It will never be there again, like that.
Not exactly like that.
scattered diamonds of white between the shadows flash past
a kaleidoscope of morning
riding past the neighbors’ fence ‘s on my 10 speed
a million years ago
no picture for this post
umbrellas and flowers on the news…