Bike

Propped in the corner of the gravel yard, with time-tanned saddle and rusted chain, Thunbergia growing round it’s russet frame.

She’d ridden to town to meet him, dark eyes alight with sunlight, tangled curls of copper teasing the wind.

They married as spring unfolded and rode on from there together, she his unruly freedom and he her gardener.

She’s gone now.

She’d like the black-eyed flowers that grow along it’s faded frame, then tumble like her auburn hair, running wild again.


“Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Bike’

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