I have wanted to write a poem
about your orange Schwinn,
on the back there was a little folding chair-
I rode with you like a queen, just me –
perfecting my wave form,
looking forward over your bent curly head.
You were strong then, wide back, muscled calves,
cutoffs, beat up sneakers
shifting smoothly, glancing back at me, smiling.
I have wanted to write a poem.