BICYCLE

Dodging danger
down the lanes of Ninth Avenue
I pedal with a pleasure
that's hard to explain
to those who know
I am hardly intrepid.
I am frightened by the subway,
for gods sakes,
yet I'm somehow undaunted
by this traffic.
I have learned they are not all bad,
these roaring, rushing,
fast and furious four–wheeled
hurtling masses of metal.
They may resent my presence,
my fragile frame impeding their race
to the next red light,
but I have found to my amazement —
and my survival will affirm —
they'd really rather not hit me.
I don't claim to have never
been close to disaster.
But the pleasure of getting
from here to there
in the open air
on my own two wheels —
my iPod piping music into my ears —
is so profound,
the experience so exhilarating,
the triumph of movement and music
over madness
so strong an affirmation of sanity
in my daily routine,
that fear is not a factor.
Or so I say.
Until one day they wheel me away.


© Ellen Azorin