Reached a fork in the road

and went left

instead of right

The left-hand path leads to my family

The right-hand path leads to the wilderness

Riding my bike is a ritual

in the summertime.

I listen to symphony music

while I follow the sun.

When I got home, my parents were coming back from the doctor

and I heard their medical report

“We aren’t spring chickens, anymore.”

This is not as bad as their life advice

that turns like a record… and repeats itself.

It got late into the evening

and I had to ride 20 miles home.

“Do you want a ride?” My dad asked.

“No.”

I stared at the sky full of Poseidon’s spears

clouds

shooting across the pink sky.

I passed the construction site

where they raped the river

to build apartment homes

Two trees

stand alone

like they are talking to each other

It’s the most unnatural thing

for these trees to be alone

standing as they do

Separated

from the forest

that surrounded them.

Anybody

knows

the time is coming

when they will be cut down,

but until then

I stare at them, where the machines have grabbed their trunks

and wounded their bark.

The river is full of

strange stilts

Some horrible public project

It has become dark

and the insects are getting inside my eyes

the light on my bike

shines

on a world that only comes out at night.

Eventually, I get back

thankful

I rode home

alone.