One day
I found my old bicycle, hidden away
in the garage
where it had lain for many a year

I rode it down to the canal
and amidst the quiet waters
and summer breeze
I found a delicious spot to take a nap

I was only half awake when I suddenly espied
a gorgeously colorful boat
being energetically rowed past me on the bank
although it was nearly silent and at first
I thought I might be dreaming

The bright colors astounded me
and the athletic grace of its captain
made me fumble for my old camera
but by the time I pressed the button it was too late

Squealing and protesting
I pushed my old bicycle to its top speed
cutting through brambles on the overgrown trail
as I attempted to catch up with it

Time and time again, it eluded me
Either I was too slow
or my bicycle could not carry me
or my hands were shaking
and all the photographs I took
ended up blurry and out of focus

And yet those brief, fleeting images
are the only tangible things I have
to show you
the beautiful thing
I once saw