I talked of gravel, manholes, lids and rain.
While he sipped coffee
I boasted of endless rides, of sweeping corners, knee down.
While he smiled slowly
I showed my gear, my leathers, boots and gloves
While he stared out of the café window
Contemplating the road.
I bragged of bikes past owned and those still coveted
While he tapped his fingers
On the table rhythmically.
At last he turned his loving eye to me. He spoke:
“The vanishing point is all you need.
Look beyond that and live.”
© Nick Shutt 2016.