night pedals
Learned to ride
under a sky smeared with silver,
streetlights spilling like slow fire.
Creatures drifted in the air,
tiny sparks of shadow,
flickering in the corners of my eyes.
They whispered with the hiss of wind
and the creak of my pedals: maybe you can’t.
Foot down, foot up
the bike trembled beneath me,
its metal ribs singing against my hands.
Wobble, sway, almost-fall
the night leaned closer,
breathing around me like velvet.
And then, somehow,
the creatures lifted,
swirling like leaves caught in a sudden breeze.
Their whispers became applause,
light and soft, brushing against my cheeks.
Pedal by pedal, heartbeat by heartbeat,
I carved a rhythm into the darkness.
Maybe they were never against me
maybe they were just waiting
to see if I would fly.
Better late than never.
I rode,
and the night spun with me.
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