Off balance   I lift myself onto the pedals search and find my feet Take the weight off, now for take off, a pause and then release Catch the moment, spin the wheel, fledgling pigeon steps Leaning now on nobody, creation holds its breath This old frame ain’t going to hold pretty faces again. Rust ‘stead of gold. Buckled and broke, bursting of springs, ribs all unspoke, the bell never rings Tipping toe down Italy, lacing up her boot Trace the ribbons round her ankle, tickling her foot Hills unwind each revolution twists and heals, unfolds, unfurls Tilts the sky at different angles, kicks against the world This old frame ain’t going to hold pretty faces again. Rust ‘stead of gold No grip on this earth, needs more than a squeeze, tired and frayed, days better than these Take a tumble through the gears, tear up the DNA Throw myself into the race, freewheeling come what may Grado, Salo, Riomaggiore unburden me tonight  Volterra, Tuscanna, Orvieto, awake, alive, alight