Unready . . .Unsteady

Unready, Unsteady. . .

Freewheel off at a tangent, tangerine sweetly sour,
face puckered child, grizzled old woman
crabwise in the gutter.

No more to ride in cycle gangs without helmets
only skintight leggings to swerve across life’s way
in the way, out of the way — in my road,
my line of sight.

How far the horizon?

Above the hill? A cloud hangs darkly doomed.
Wind whistles to burn the sun away —
zip zap, zip zap. Snip Snap. Call it in.
Call it all in, give it a rap — a wrap to
bind, to hold, to tie it all together.

Tomorrow another day, another way, another
tangerine, a squirt of juice in the eye; a spurt
of speed on the road. Old Crabbie still there,
alone in the gutter, never to mutter, just a
moan and a gurgle, a rolling eye; a lowering sky.