On my bike

I ride through scenes

As in a dream

They pass before my eyes

And most of them are meaningless

I ride alone

I don’t talk to anyone 

I hear the birds

The machines

Air conditioners kicking on

And I’m at peace

I keep riding 

On and on 

Not seeking anything 

Not even lust

Or liberation 

Just another woman 

Riding a bike

On another Sunday morning 

-jenn