locking up my bike in front of the store
a babbling drunk approached me
I wanted to withdraw
but he said
listen
you forgot
to pat your steed after the ride
I was startled but obeyed
pat-pat-pat
went my hand on the seat

approval flashed in the drunk’s eyes:
listen
you’re young and pretty
but don’t you go
sitting on the ground
before spring thunder

I had a sweetheart once

Signe
young and pretty too
but y’see she didn’t listen
and was ugly and ill afore long

I gazed upon the drunk
grey-stubbled face
missing most of his teeth
(though his words weren’t toothless at all)
but his eyes
were long-lashed
handsome blue kind

that drunk had been a little boy once
for whom purses were searched for sweets
people said
what a boy
what eyelashes
like a doll’s
his mother’s pride and joy

too kind unfortunately
I thought as I patted my bike

before the ride
and spurred it on our way
mounting the saddle once more
and speeding off

but the drunk sat down
on the ground in front of the store
long before
the first spring thunder