Poetry and Photography by Rhys Hughes
Cyclist, give way
to horses.
The forces
of darkness will prevail
if you don’t.
A sound of hooves
removes
any doubts
you may entertain about
whether your brakes
still work–
Surely they must fail.
The narrow saddle
you ride upon
is smaller than the seats
the horses know.
It would make
a very poor paddle
if you were ever forced
to use a canoe.
The glowing sunrise lies
beyond the hills
but what keeps it rising?
Hydrogen atoms
pay the monthly bills.
Cyclist, give way
every time:
You are not as fast
as a neighing beast.
In a race you might be
a semi-finalist
but never a winner.
And what do you eat
for dinner? Do you feast
on apples and hay
and drink nothing stronger
than fresh water?
I very much doubt it.
It seems to me
you prefer to eat cakes
and sip pints of
strong Irish stout.
You are like a centaur
mounted there.
The horses will stare
at you and your shoes
and never forget
this unbalanced fact.
Cyclist! Don’t presume
to know the sources
that continually fill
your rubber wheels
with airs and graces.
Simply give way
to the faces of horses.
Rhys Hughes has lived in many countries. He graduated as an engineer but currently works as a tutor of mathematics. Since his first book was published in 1995 he has had fifty other books published and his work has been translated into ten languages.
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