It was bright red

It was bright red

The blood coming from his head

Even on the concrete,

Well, that stony uneven surface

They lay down to save time and money

On good paving slabs,

I heard a bang

Followed, quick smart, by a yell

Before I had time to turn

The guy was down

On the ground

With his bike on top of him

Rear-wheel all bent out of shape

How did that happen?

Even as I rushed to help

Asking if he was working properly

Putting him in the recovery position

I was pleased to have paid attention

At the first aid classes

Although my wife and I

Had failed to save a woman

Some years ago

When she had a stroke and fell

We both conducted CPR

For which we were commended,

Not by her family

They didn’t get in touch

But the local police knocked on the door

A few days later and thanked us both

We couldn’t have saved her

She was dead before she hit the floor

I did today

He was much livelier

Wanting to sit up

Feeling embarrassed

Being the centre of attention

Railing against the notion of

Helplessness

But I said no

Afraid of concussion

He could have died of old age

Before the ambulance arrived

The dispatcher had asked more questions

About covid than the accident

Birthdate

He remembered it easily

He would be okay

He held my hand, mouthed a thank you

Close to twenty years younger than me

I doubt if I will get on a bike again,

Maybe he won’t

Funny though, it is about twenty years

Since I went for a burton

On a bike

I will stick to Shanks’s pony

Do people still say that I wonder?