Bicycling, with Birds
What I remember when I’d think of you
Who once possessed the power to stop my heart
Is how one summer morning we rode out
Down leafy lanes on new red bicycles
Not so much following a pair of birds
As being led by them.
                                 Was it delight
That made those whitethroats dance upon the air?
They seemed to know where we would go before
We knew the way ourselves.
                                 They flickered there,
Darting about our handlebars, our heads,
A pair of common birds, but magical,
Leading us on, and singing as they flew.

We rang our bells for them, and for the joy
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