Riding in near twilight
[pedaling pedaling]
fast at first, determined.
Where am I fretting to go?
Someplace this being doesn't belong.

Everything comes slowly
unexpectedly
warm breaths and cool
smells of spices and sewage
men and summer,
incense for the taking.

An orange glow draws my body
just behind the mountains.
Trees, buildings- please move,
there's glory to be seen.

Reaching home,
my pace is fast enough to avoid falling over
and slow enough to breathe in
the ugly and beautiful.