Pawl and Ratchet

by T. Pitre
(Washington State)

In the morning mist
lean predators
in black and yellow lycra
fly along the trail.
Wheels spin.

If we listen attentively
we hear
a brittle hum
and buzz
of spokes,
and chains.

No ring of the courtesy bell,
or a chipper “on your right”,
as they fly past an older woman running on the trail.
Unconscious,they skim past
on both sides
stealing her breath.

The middle-aged mantis
in the lead,
jaw set,
sheathed in a gray, wrinkled, fabric skin
selfish to others on the trail.

They coast on,
the tick tick,
click click
of ratchet and pawl
as the pale creatures
move forward
through the morning,
oblivious to all
but themselves.

Click here to post comments

Join in and write your own page! It's easy to do. How? Simply click here to return to Submit a Poem.


Search Here for Poetry

Click here if you love us! Follow Me on Pinterest