by Lorne Daniel
Borderline giddy, still breathing
heavily, we pull sweaty helmets off.
It was a good pedal up
to Royal Oak, the elevation at the end
catching us a bit by surprise. Quads,
lungs. We stand our bikes at the edge,
walk into the woods of the green
burial grounds, sit to contemplate
on a bench in the vigor of bush and bees.
We have chosen our spot or at least
the grove where, wrapped in cloth
shrouds, we will be lowered if we have anything
to say about it (and, having prepaid, we fully
expect some silent say). Odd, this energy
coursing so vividly today, flushing
flesh that will slowly take its leave, abandon
these boneworks. Today our whole
package of being can sit a moment
in satisfaction, before we kick
our kickstands back, ride away.
— from Juniper Volume 4, Issue 1