Andrew’s bicycle has run away from our garage.
No, it can’t have been stolen; what thief
would steal his shiny red bike, but leave mine
leaning against the stowed pile of wood scraps,
broken furniture, junk run inevitables?
Don’t look at me like that.
Oh sure, she’s an ugly old clunker,
sad like a matted cat with it’s ear torn off
or a broken umbrella sopped in a puddle.
Her kickstand is a balancing act,
her chain a braying barnyard,
her brakes a test of faith.
I see your point.
Yeah, I could buy a new bike
(maybe a retro-style cruiser),
but it would be all will and no
fate, it would never satisfy
my want of serendipity, my love
for what is overlooked or
Before you start lecturing me on bicycle safety, let me say that I recently took my bike in to be fixed up (and it cost me over twice what I originally paid for the damn thing). She's still not going to win any beauty contests, but at least she's road-worthy.
Photo by Sam Javanrouh
(Check out more of this guy's photos; they're AWESOME!)
Do you have something old or worn in your life that you choose not to replace out of fondness or sentimentality?