Bicycle Ride (1995)
by Michael Primont
mprimont@msn.com
Balanced on a bicycle,
the ride to work is always
instructive.
Dry, brown, lifeless
leaves scrape the ground,
trees shake, leaves swirl
down, up, down, up, settle
down, scraping, clashing,
covering
cracks, streets, holes,
dirt, grates, covering
tracks, swirling away, revealing
layers of stuff that are always there.
Always falling, always rising,
always falling. The seasons
look out at us, and seeing
that we do as they do,
sigh and say,
"today I rise, tomorrow
I fall.
Something will never end.
Something will end and
something will begin."
It is our life, our work,
to rise while we're falling,
changing into seasons.
Fools we are, thinking of reasons,
thinking rising is rising and falling is falling,
Don't be so optimistic
but don't be so pessimistic
but don't be so optimistic.
The seasons,
swirling, tell the story
(as if it were a story).
by Michael Primont
mprimont@msn.com
Balanced on a bicycle,
the ride to work is always
instructive.
Dry, brown, lifeless
leaves scrape the ground,
trees shake, leaves swirl
down, up, down, up, settle
down, scraping, clashing,
covering
cracks, streets, holes,
dirt, grates, covering
tracks, swirling away, revealing
layers of stuff that are always there.
Always falling, always rising,
always falling. The seasons
look out at us, and seeing
that we do as they do,
sigh and say,
"today I rise, tomorrow
I fall.
Something will never end.
Something will end and
something will begin."
It is our life, our work,
to rise while we're falling,
changing into seasons.
Fools we are, thinking of reasons,
thinking rising is rising and falling is falling,
Don't be so optimistic
but don't be so pessimistic
but don't be so optimistic.
The seasons,
swirling, tell the story
(as if it were a story).
