Tandem
by amy dugmore
for Lisa
Every time I see you, before we know it,
we’re back on our tandem bicycle, perched
on that glossy scarlet frame with seats
for just us two – we’re zipping
across terrain both old and new, in synch
so fast that others leap back
from the crimson flash, the blinding chrome
not sure what they’ve just missed –
we leave them kerbside, tasting grit –
a velocity of sisters rising, my spokes
are your spokes, your spokes are mine and we’re flying
faster hurtling headlong, we’ve lost them
all to the dual motion of two pairs of legs
on two pairs of pedals, ourselves doubled
then doubled again in the gleam of steel
endlessly twinning – others would brace
for the brakes, not us – here we go, no warning
bell no way to divide one half from the other
no way to swerve and I no longer know
which one of us is steering though
I grip the handlebars tight hold on —
Amy Dugmore is a writer and content marketer based in Birmingham, UK. She has written about everything from education and marketing to health and bereavement. Her work is forthcoming in Under My Pillow anthology. You can find her on Twitter @AL_Dugmore
Comments