Paceline

This may be more a manifesto or a letter to friends than a poem. Last week, while participating in the Sea Gull Century with a group of cycling buddies, two of them fell and injured themselves pretty badly. This is a reaction to that incident as well all consider the risks and rewards of biking.

             Paceline

We cyclists speed in single file,

taking turns leading the way,

working hard for a chance to rest.

The first shall be last until

he glides to the front again.

There’s safety in numbers –

and danger, too.   The closer

we cluster, the quicker we go

and the faster we fall, like a line

of brightly colored dominoes.

Wheel touches wheel,

stick finds spoke, or

gravel gives way and

bikes collide,

face finds asphalt, and bones

more than meet their match.

What helped cause the crash

helps the healing, too: friends

and strangers tending

to the injured, calling for help,

staying with fallen bike or

fallen brother till the sirens

sound and finally fade.

That which does not kill us,

makes us stronger,

and that which makes us

strong may kill us yet.

But we refuse to live

at half speed

in a granny gear

when we know we can

go farther and faster

together than we’d

ever go alone.