To Ride a Bicycle

To ride a bicycle

Something grey has paved Portland Place,
as well as every road I could take next,
I don't really want to return -

I know I invest it with something
if I let it grow up,
stack fresh memories to winter;

but no desire to return,
nor rumble along the tarmac,
see violets drifted in the gutter,
nor ask myself where they came from:
not to care again.