It runs
the dark road,
often coned by my bike light.
The steady line is my focus;
I breathe with it like a woman in labor.
Downhill it is my trusted guide,
but its deeper meaning is in the long uphill.
With its counsel I have reviewed my deepest concerns:
divorce, health, life course, the world.
Patiently listening to arguments
with myself and others,
it remains dispassionate
until thought is exhausted,
and there is just
pumping crank,
deep breath,
and white
line.
A few readers have wondered if this is a drug poem. No, it is not.
