Tricks over curbs
soft thumping
of wheels over pavement
I could smell the charcoal from our last burn
the fresh tar on the blacktop
There’s a metallic taste in the air
nagging like a song stuck in your head
Streetlights are humming
Crickets and katydids are buzzing
while in the breeze, I’m sifting
through light and silhouettes of trees
Bobbing in and out
of parallel yellow lines smoothly
There’s nothing to fret
There’s only wheels on blacktop and
serenading bugs
humming of streetlights
Objects and their silhouettes
The metronome like thumping
pebbles under wheels
Tricks over curbs
I’m fancy free
Those dogged parallel lines can’t dictate my direction
Dawning Creations 
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