i tied a plastic rose

APRIL 29 1998 I tied a plastic rose around her handlebars, and left it for her to find in the morning. She woke me up with a kiss and a cracked mug of tea and told me we had some riding to do. I climbed on the back of her, and tied my arms around her charity shop tee, tight. We zipped between traffic and I told her ‘its a lipstick jungle out there’  and placed my nose behind her ear as she sought out new paths for us to sneak down. When the evening drew closer we found each others hands, and kissed parts of the skin that had arrived pink with the sun, and melted every so slightly into each others hips. And then the wind came, it threw us off the park and past the roads. She left in the morning dressed for different days. She came home caked in mud and I washed her hair in the bath as she lay with her head in my lap.  APRIL 29 1998 Winter kills Salt crystals, de-icing road spray, sand, that grit, Crow minstrels, squirrels play, coyotes sprint all along the boulevard, tear drops fall, angry voices call, a hand with rough knuckles and a L O V E tattoo caresses a naked shoulder in tight jeans, even though it is minus six unless the transport trucks speed, down the main drag, ups the wind chill, the city of green spaces, upturned faces shine with hope? or looking for the the thirty plus BMX rider with their dope, 'round here a hit can be three things, drug related, gang related, or another pedestrian defenestrated from a cross walk framed pane, wrong place in time, because the reaper behind the wheel will chill the reality of how winter kills