Cycling at Dawn
I hear the metronomic click of gears, the clack
not astride but slipped over like a second skin
— bronzed even on a dull day — sucked
in viscose, your head inside a helmet
the water pack and tool kit cling
Your focus is fixed between thumbs
under, knuckles taut in gore-tex mitts.
in a pre-emptive spin skids back to earth.
gleams in ripe aplomb. How ageless
you look as you glide
towards the drop
I’ve seen this scene. Foot clips engage,
push off from gravel. Pulled by gravity
time seems to stop
as you fly or float out of sight
until I hear the familiar whirr
Janet Newman’s poems have been published in bravado, NZ Poetry, blackmail press, a fine line, NZ Poetry Society anthologies Before the Sirocco and Across the Fingerboards, and Nth Degree. She is completing a Bachelor of Arts (Hons) in English at Massey University, New Zealand.
Newman writes: “Reading Alfred Lord Tennyson’s ‘Tithonus’ with its descriptions of the ever-youthful dawn goddess Aurora and her horsedrawn chariot, for a Massey Victorian writing paper while watching Frank set off on his mountain bike, conspired to create a contemporary image of agelessness in ‘Cycling at Dawn’. (The last line of Tennyson’s ‘Tithonus’ is “And thee returning on thy silver wheels”.)”