Peddling

Sleep, friend to most
an enemy, silent in its ways
often would find me, take me
make me its prisoner, without
my consent,

A dream enveloped me
a trip of some distance,
my two-wheeled chariot
never quite its destination, reaching,

Awakened suddenly
a face below me, staring, saying
“where your journey has led you
where your furious peddling took you
while I, alas, am still waiting”

For you, your final goal to reach

Where I too
can feel the pleasure

the satisfaction
of reaching, sometime, somehow
the climax
of your peddling
fury

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