Charles
10-02-2004, 03:16 AM
She seemed to bob
on a matted silver bike
I watched for
not yet able to reach
the high seat,
working her way
up car-free Penn Street,
and I would make as if
I hadn't seen her
when she passed,
first feeling then
what regret was,
but worst of all
was evenings in autumn
when she rode home
down across Main Street
through smoke
of burning leaves
with the moon,
a soft round lantern,
hanging over the trees.
from: The Butler Pennsylvania Poems (http://geocities.com/clcing/)
on a matted silver bike
I watched for
not yet able to reach
the high seat,
working her way
up car-free Penn Street,
and I would make as if
I hadn't seen her
when she passed,
first feeling then
what regret was,
but worst of all
was evenings in autumn
when she rode home
down across Main Street
through smoke
of burning leaves
with the moon,
a soft round lantern,
hanging over the trees.
from: The Butler Pennsylvania Poems (http://geocities.com/clcing/)