Favours

Pedaling steadily behind 
I train my eyes on your back wheel, 
I will myself to copy your lead 
And stay off the brakes. 
 
This following is not natural. 
We plunge forward and down. 
Pebbles shoot up from under your tires and mud 
Splatters your back. 
 
You, a modern knight, ride ahead, 
Taking the fathom of puddles, 
Warning of dangers, 
Pointing safe passage. 
 
When you reach the five-bar gate, 
You nudge it open, canting your bike 
And I proceed 
With a grateful wave. 
 
“Sir Francis Drake, the sun is setting and the air is cool.” 
 
We halt while you fetch the neoprene gauntlets 
From well-stocked pockets, 
Your sturdy helmet 
Gleaming in the dusk. 
 
On we ride. 
 
At the car we dismount 
and you thank me 
as we change 
into dry clothes and shoes 
before I drive us back.