“But did you notice the flowers?”
asked the man who stopped
to help me fix the flat on my bike
after I had complained how
my ride had been ruined.

I hadn’t.

I had biked nearly fifty miles
churning hips pounding the pedals
eyes steady ahead, thinking only
of the next fifty I wanted
to cover that day.

Ever since, I have noticed
every bike ride I look around
see the wildflowers in the ditches
the planted flowers in the yards
miles behind me and miles ahead.

Even now, when I look into an image
a weatherworn window frame
tucked into its concrete wall and brick
spindling leafless fingers of ivy gripping tight
giving all the auspices of death –

But did you notice the blue sky?

[Prompt 5: Picture]