What of a picture?

Does it tell the truth

Or

Will I make up a story?


I caught a look and made a

Stop

Along the road

This lonely road


What of this picture

Touches me?

Is it the fond memories

Of riding freely in an other's

Country?


What of this picture

Touches me?

Is it his sunny smooth back,

Dipping into his pant line?


It is a fine rear view

Of a love passed me by

Or the memory of a heart

My cheek never felt

Of teen age pen pals, sealed

With tongues never touching

Hands never clutching


What is it of his picture

That takes me back in time?

His golden back to the front

Of me

His sunny possibility

On this lonely road I'm

Cycling

Cycling by.
Midnight.
Meeting somebody.
Friends to fix.
Her slow touch.
All seen. All splendid.

Light to the eye
Is like
Time to the body;
Both play tricks,
And too much,
All told, will end it.

All good dreams must end
I close my eyes
And
Savor it
Like
Chocolate
Melting
Like
Heat from my coffee's
Cup

XXX