Bicycle Built for Two | The Poetry Foundation
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On the real azalea path we rode. I can tell you what it was like, I was a celebrity: Babies waved and dachshunds barked, I had nothing to do but be carried along; The colors were peaking, peaking. Foaming over their own heads like seltzer. I knew in which order they bloomed, even: The dark welling wine ones were last. It was Ash Wednesday and no one was dirty. It was Holy Thursday and no one had halos. My niece was in town with her boyfriend. She was wearing a T-shirt that said Blessed By God, Spoiled by My Electrician, Protected By Both. The Triple Goddess had been Surpassed,…
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