They glide like ghosts
In the morning mist
Exhaling their way through the streets
Creeping up on you
Catching you unaware

Spinning and weaving their magic
As they rattle your mind
It’s like you’re in a video game
And they, the reckless characters
Who seem to do with everything with such ease

But their bodies are real.
Solid,  slender and cold.
Grasshopper clicks
As they breathlessly hurtle past,
You try to catch them

But they slip from your grasp
Each working day
And each working night
They crop up beside you
And even unexpectedly
On those glorious weekends

Bloody cyclists.

Thoughts: I am a keen cyclist and I don’t know how to drive, but with some of the behaviour we cyclists exhibit, I can imagine that this is what some drivers think about us. 

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Author: Grandtrines

Like so many people, I am a paradox. I am a politically conservative vegetarian. I am from a Christian background, and still tend to like those values, but am a metaphysical astrologer trained in science who has an interest in the magic of ancient Egypt and a weird belief that some piece of our essence can live on a server. I live in Texas, but like chatting with my international Wordpress pals the best. I learn by teaching. Technically, I am a "Leo," but I am very, very Aquarian with a dose of Scorpio. I bitterly complain about Algol (and Algol personaliites), yet it is the one star that defines me most (other than Regulus). (Which, oddly, makes me an Algol personality.) I am a reclusive lover of peace and quiet who has the Ascendant in the Via Combusta (the most conflict ridden part of the zodiac). I am an incredibly private person with a blog with over 800 followers and 50 to 150 regular daily visitors. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

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