Black railings

Black railings

and racks of us,
we meet like this every day,
there’s Raleigh 70’s Racer,
a model with balding tyres,
Chipper and Chopper,
never mention their condition
as it’s called ‘receding’
on bikes of a certain age.

Gentiles with wicker baskets,
smelling of salad and bread,
remind us of home speed,
and a paper delivery welcome.

And young upstarts,
all pumped up, ready,
as colourful as the quench
of their drinks containers.
Some have missing spokes;
we like to hear
of their Evel escapades.

While owners do as they must,
we lean in casually, wait,
their feet dismounting pedals
to walk into the city.

In warm afternoons, exchanges
link off to the countryside,
where chains unnecessary,
freewheeling is unrestrained
as black railings turned
freestyle blackberry hedges.