An open letter to the guy in my new neighborhood who tried to steal my bike from the back of my truck while I was moving in

August 12, 2007

What do your needs entail? Was it money
that drew you to the handlebars peeking
over the walls of my white Ford? Were
you looking to make a quick getaway?

Longing for the feel of wind slapping
your hair against your face as cars honk
their horns and people lean out
of their cars to curse your existance

on the shoulder? Is there a dealer
in the neighborhood who is willing

to barter, to give you the feel
of wind in your face, the sense of
people shouting without much
effort? Whatever it was, I came
walking toward you, and you
turned around and left.

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Filed under Musings, poetry

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