A squadron of Canadian geese
lifted off from the half-frozen lake,
curved in a smooth semi-circle,
and powered over my head in a perfect V.
Solitary fishermen stood along the shoreline
at distant intervals, like quarter-mile markers
measuring the bike path I travelled.
A man in a down coat sat at a picnic table,
his back to the lake, staring at his cell phone,
as still as the barren trees, turned inward
from the cold. I gulped the crisp, biting air
and pedaled on, slicing through the February wind,
my tires humming warm against the pavement.
A Winter Bike Ride
