The Cold Tap Sings

the p-word

Tag: Bike


photo: 97lessi

photo: 97lessi

Here’s a poem about loneliness. It describes a fleeting moment which truly happened, but its title is mere speculation.


The Widower

Now write a poem about it,
That image you’ll never forget:

The yellow tandem gliding past,
And the rider’s steadfast grimace;

His tired eyes, the naked saddle,
The ghost turning bereft pedals

                                          in thin air


Read more poems about bikes here.



On my cycle home through Richmond Park
I saw a stag not standing, not kneeling,
but keeled over; muzzle, head and horn
resting on the early autumn grass.
How the soft blades meld with
his thick fur as he sleeps.

I imagine the imprint of his shape
in the twilight. The long shadows
cast by the horse chestnuts kink,
ever so slightly, when they meet
the edge of his ghostly silhouette.
By morning the grass has resprung.