175

John maintained a pose of relative
            Stasis as the momentum of his bicycle
                        Carried him down the incline that
Modulated the path's course
            Through the woods behind the farm.
                        His knee and ankle were locked in
The pedal stirrup on the chainside
            And on the alternate his right
                        Leg was pendent, almost touching
The path that fell away behind it.
            He was travelling at eighteen miles
                        Per hour and he was accelerating.
Three doves broke from the crown
            Of the canopy and made a staggered
                        Ascent into the air. At intervals
The relative rotation of treetrunks
            In parallax would create a corridor
                        Through which he could see smoke
Curl from a woodfire burning out
            In the fields past the terminus of the
                        Incline. He let the handlebars go,
And lifted his arms to make a
            Cruciform and gave voice to a long
                        Inchoate shout that trembled in
The uneven surface of the pathway.
            A half mile from the limit of the
                        Wood the front wheel buckled in a
Hollow and the axle collapsed. John
            Was thrown four metres. On landing, he
                        Fell unconscious and began to bleed.