Eighteens in Common

Riding my bicycle into heavy winds

Moving slowly up the hill

30 miles from nowhere

in the Colorado rolling prairie.

Rare line of cars toward me coming

Narrow two-lane ribbon of blacktop

Holy Shit! Freightliner going out for a pass!

Solid double yellow lines!

Scared as hell I’m gonna die!

But I get pissed real fast!

Big damn truck still 5 cars back

I ride into the lane head on

What seems like forever is seconds in length

Standing up, up on my pedals

Left hand flies into the air

Middle finger straight up!

Unheard words streaming from within

Crashing into a Freightliner grill.

Me and my little blue bike

Taking on all of his eighteen big wheels!

Through the reflection I see

The driver grinning with broken teeth.

Up into the cab his hand moves up

A middle finger protruding north

Narrow the shoulder, narrower the escape

Just eighteen inches from eighteen wheels

And my heart’s all tore up!

My bike and I still riding slowly up the hill

Willing the hate up from deep in my heart

Cussed and cursed that big white truck

And the driver with the ugly teeth.

And the wind blowing, breath into my soul

My spirit beginning to subside within

What was his problem, was he running late?

Maybe he didn’t see me until it was too late

I’d like to ask Mr. Driver, “what’s up?”

We were both angry and really pissed off!

And we are also brothers of the earth

I bet his family, he missed so much

His hurry was to see them as soon as he can.

I wish I could meet him, sit down with a beer

Listen to his stories of trucks and the road

Maybe show him my bike, less than eighteen pounds

And laugh about his tractor weighing eighteen thousand

And we’d come away knowing we’re friends.

© 2010 Dayvid Graybill