Thursday, November 14, 2013

The little wooden bridge


A power ride, it was
165 miles, graveled and
pounded flat, with rutted
stretches appearing
unexpectedly, like
the occasional snake
and critter darting
across my path, uneventful
until the little bridge,
the little wooden bridge
across the little creek,
the bridge with its construction
sign, narrowing the way,
slowing the ride, dutifully
I slowed the ride, the handlebar
hooked the board, hooked it
hard, the bike slammed down,
slammed down hard, I’m
thinking I’m seriously hurt,
I see the blood on my leg,
broken mirror, I stand up
on the little wooden bridge
and walk for a time, then
climb back on the bike
to finish the final 15 miles,
not much else I could do,
not bad for someone (as
it turned out) with four
broken ribs and a partially
collapsed lung. It did
hurt, though, once I got
off the bike.

Over at Tweetspeak Poetry, we’re discussing Spin: Taking Your Creativity to the Nth Degree by Claire Burge. One of the exercises asks the question, when have brake figuratively failed you with surprising consequences? In the true story recorded above, the brakes didn’t literally fail, but the resulting bike crash (2009) led eventually to an overnight stay in the hospital and reading Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places by L.L. Barkat straight through to 4 a.m. the next morning. And that led to being part of something called Tweetspeak Poetry, and that led to a book called Poetry at Work being published next month.

Who would have thought a bike crash on a little wooden bridge would lead to that result?

So check out the discussion on Claire’s book at Tweetspeak Poetry. However, I don’t advise bike crashes as the easiest way to creativity.


3 comments:

Jerry said...

Are you okay?

diana said...

Wow, Glynn. Did this just happen recently? I am so sorry! Praying for a speedy and complete recovery.

(My son got into biking this year - recently completed 525 miles to raise funds for the Arthritis Foundation in honor of our youngest grandgirl, Lilly, who at 3 has already suffered from the disease for over a year and is on powerful immuno-suppressants. He loved everything but going down steep hills. No broken ribs yet.)

Glynn said...

This happened in 2009.