And the Bicycle Spoke

I’ve been leaning against this wall all morning,

Waiting to give my spokes an airing,

Change gear, hear my bell rattling

And tyres hiss as I bounce

Over cobblestones.

Instead, I’ve been dabbling

In philosophy, contemplating

Kierkegaard, Plato,

Schopenhauer and Camus

While I wait for you,

Tucked out of sight

Beside the gate.

My cycle isn’t over yet:

I am unrusted and well kept,

My tyres pumped up,

My pedals ready,

My chain is oiled,

Handlebars steady.

But I tend to wonder

As I ponder

The mystery of it all:

What use am I

Leaning against this wall?

 

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

And the Bicycle Spoke

A little bit of whimsy for imaginary garden with real toads The Tuesday Platform. I took this picture on my birthday trip to Cambridge.

30 thoughts on “And the Bicycle Spoke”

    1. I think I was influenced by the wonderful book The Third Policeman by Flann O’Brien, in which the policemen are obsessed with bicycles and the narrator is an amateur scholar of the (made up) scientist and philosopher de Selby. It’s a mad read!

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  7. Oh! I was just reading a lovely story (that was also a bit mad) about bicycles this weekend! They were spinning and racing gloriously — quite the juxtaposition to your stagnant velocipede. Although I too tend to get stuck on Plato instead of putting on my tennis shoes — so I quite understand. I hope you take her for a ride soon! Thanks for sharing.

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