WHEN OUT OF TOUCH

You wait for a ride
no one is there
at the rainy curbside
and take your bicycle
not matter the traffic jam
you play your inward
smooth jazz in your coolness
opposing the thoughts
that hasten any demise
and decide to go by
the Bay side
to witness the Greek ship
along the shore
imagining ancient days
of travel in the sun
by the heated stones
in sight of heroic statues
drowning in Orphic praise.