On forest-green tube bike he wobbles near
Sharp short pale grass and windmill petals thin
in purple pink and white. The U-bar steers
Around and pointing straight in right at him.
Together fall young boy and bike on path
Cement, pebbly worn — neighbor’s walkway where
He fell forever onto flat round poke.
Time drained away as handlebar all air
Removed. A moment outside time provokes
A still wide patient quiet; life’s on hold.
The heaving pain will come but not til the secret’s told,
Not til the answer floats with forever with the forever slow-approaching pebbly-rough sidewalk
Next to the step-up and the low flowers in loamy bed and with the dry light green grass and softblue sky all around and through as witnesses to what?
Some riddles only expand explained to mortal man.

AW/BW, copyright AMW

[Bartleby’s Poetry Corner]