In the darkness they leave, pushing wheels across crunching gravel.
They move quietly around corners, waiting for the morning air to awaken their senses.
They walk up the steep hill, like it’s Everest, smiling in relief as they reach the top.
The sunrise stretches his red arms across the sky as they reach the graveyard on the hill.
Stopping again, they dismount to give way for another weary soul.
She puts her hand upon the clasp of his young hand, thinking, it’s time for gloves again.
I love you, he said. With a smile and a tighter grip over his hand, she loves him back.
Leaving each day in the darkness they awaken with the sunrise.
Returning home each night, they see the remain of the day nod his head at the coming of the night.
We are their metal horses, their trusty steeds, we take them safely and swiftly, from their sleepy dreams. There is a lot our bicycle wheels have heard and seen.