The day unfolded. The map unfolded.
We looked at the day. We looked at the map.
The wheel had turned once, and I came to visit you.
Your location was a bike stand in a Tucson doorway.
The spokes of the sun tightened our bond.
A photograph drove the blue into the sky.
There were ants and roads in the park.
We climbed out of the desert into a picture.
Our pedals flew west into the arms of an arboretum.
We cooled our canyon feet in a stream.
The saguaros looked one way when you walked by them
and another way when you rode by them.
In the corner a cliff was getting ready to move.
We rode a headwind home. I stretched.
You ate some pretzels.