The Bike

The Bike

Towards the end, I must have known somehow.
For the last birthday you shared with me, I got us bikes.
You’d wanted to ride for ages but first you’d been too ill
And then I’d been too over-protective.

I wanted to do something for you and for us.
Something together and two and joined.

It was hard to keep it a secret because I needed measurements,
The bike shop was really friendly, the one near Dub Rek.
I spent so long looking at different bikes,
I wanted yours to be perfect,
Something whole and strong,
Something shiny and thrilling.
I imagined you smiling and laughing on it,
The places we’d go, the adventures we’d have.

Together.

I remember how excited and surprised you were when you saw the bikes.
Your face alive and full of love and happy!
I’d bought all the ridiculous cycling gear too,
The alien cranium, gloves and lights.

We went for a ride.

As we got past the island on Bishops Drive,
Where the right turn goes to Acorn Way,
I got tired.

I was a lot heavier four years ago.
Including you, I’ve lost fifteen stone since then.

You kept cycling up the hill towards our little house.
You never looked back.
You never wondered where I was.
You didn’t wait for me to catch up,
Even though I always waited for you when you couldn’t keep up with me.

I didn’t realise it but you kept on cycling
It may have taken six months for you to leave my life
But you actually left me that day.

My bike is dusty in the corner of the kitchen.
I use it to hang bits of washing on, post-dryer
I should probably sell it.