Any moment now, I'll glimpse
the skimming Cyclops eyes;
they'll hurtle past
in cohorts riding three abreast,
bug-headed creatures of the dawn
and twilight,
black with neon stripes,
leg-pistons pumping whirring wheels,
words snatched by slipstream's
ripping sound
along the cusp of dark,
unzipping daybreak.
Early cyclists
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110070300505
Свидетельство о публикации №110070300505
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