The impossible lane, being impossible,
stretches farther than I imagined
My steps are tentative, the bike light guiding my way
I get a few strange looks, which beg
why is he pushing it
We had laid the bike down that Saturday, Rhino and me. Our near-collision came around the blind corner at full speed, eyes ahead, not expecting our jump across her path. Brakes slammed, sliding to a stop just short of her.
We were both okay, road rash but nothing more
She paused, but only briefly, to ensure we were not injured
I paused for a minute, trying to decide if there was time and capacity to translate and explain what was really going on: I’m shook; scared for what might have been; surprised; uneasy.
And she was off.
You okay bud?
Yeah papa, I’m fine.
But the bike, only barely functional,
So I walk, and push, and feel self-conscious.
And wonder what lies around the next impossible bend.