Adventures of a Trike Trekker-White or Red, What's the Difference?

Again,the woman who is staying at our rental next week is a poet and photographer from Door County, Wisc., north of where we lived in West Bend.  Many of her poems reach out and grab my heart.  Here's one of them.  (I have definite plans for this one and another favorite of hers, but there are quite a few.  We must be kindred spirits!  I've ordered one of her books.)

The White Bicycle by Sharon Auberle

when everything is falling apart
my friend, when you’re stuck
in the horse latitudes
mired in a dark
night of the soul
when you’re no longer sleek
sexy and smooth

find the white bicycle
climb on that
fat-tired slow beast
pedal and huff and
laugh like you mean it
whistle sing shout
and cuss use words
your mama told you never to

push that bike up a mountain
when you get to the top
when you’re near
to over the hill
when night is falling fast
jump on whoop and holler

ride that old bicycle down
no brakes allowed
fireflies and stars
your only light
and when you wipe out
(and yes, honey, you will)
darkness like a big pillowy woman
will come along and wrap you up
whisper everything’s gonna be allright…

no worries, baby,
she’ll carry all
your broken pieces home...

You may remember Lynne from this previous post.

She will be sharing her adventures in a new blog for Four Green Steps!

Image courtesy of Creative Commons.

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