The Bicycle and The Hill

 The spokes of the bicycle wheel spin on and on

Without regard for the feelings of the sun and her nighttime lover.

She shines �" no, blinds �" from rise until set for that mysterious moon

And he takes notice.

He whispers worldly words to her across the hesitant sky

And even chances an occasional morning visit.

 

But words, no matter how whimsical,

Cannot bring together the mystical moon and the superlunary sun.

Temporary visits cannot close the gap between day and night,

Cannot extend dawn nor broaden twilight.

No matter how brightly the sun lights the moon,

He will always be trapped beyond ray’s reach,

Caged by darkness despite the shining sun.

The bicycle keeps rolling down the infinite hill.