1 minute read

Christopher Yu ’21, Bicycle

It meets head-on, Sunlight embracing, Pavement scraping, People spinning, Round and round, The bicycle that glides past them, Its wheels Skate Through the streets, Laughing, Playing, It makes its entrance discreetly, Fearlessly easing through stop signs, Daring to pass on the right, Darting and dipping, Invading the road, To the metal behemoths surrounding, But the temporary lifeline, And soul of its owner, There are no windows, Or seatbelts adorning the thin frame, Yet still the only thing Separating me from the cruel pavement we glide above, As the cars and sounds of the city, Are left behind, I can feel myself begin to transform The legs of a centaur lie beneath me, My feet nothing more than another Cog in the system, The winds of the gods beckon me forward, Until we reach the feet of our mortal enemy: The Titan, The mountain of a man, Stands hundreds of feet tall, It stares us down, Unforgiving, Uncaring,

This article is from: