Two Different Banana-Seat Bikes: NaPoWriMo 2015, Day Four

Maybe you would like to know
what my hair smelled like when I was born, or
what I thought about when I reached for
dust mote sunbeams and my hand came back
empty. Maybe I wonder about you in your
stiff white shoes, your hair a different color
than it is now because the second your life
begins, it sets about to change you. Maybe
years later, you and I rode down two different
hills on two different banana-seat bikes in two
different states and wondered about each other,
in a way, whether this thing that has happened,
ever would happen. But most likely, we were
thinking only about the wind, the gnats, our
sweat, how not to add new scabs to our
old ones and, as always, how not to hear
our mothers calling us home.

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4 thoughts on “Two Different Banana-Seat Bikes: NaPoWriMo 2015, Day Four

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