A bientot mon ami

         for the cyclist, Real Pierre Le Bel
​
          "The trouble is, you think
           you have time."  
                                      --Buddha

I took the photo of you standing
before your 1950 Legnano track
bike during my one and only visit
to Quebec, and the repurposed one
room schoolhouse you shared
with beautiful Marie-France.
A photo of a true cyclist, 
famous in country lanes: Real Le Bel,
with quads like chunks of polished stone
from a prehistoric stream bed, upper
and lower calf muscles like comic
illustrations of Hercules I knew
as a boy. In the lost language 
of my youth, a man's man.
But the look on your face, Real,
as you gaze down upon the Legnano--almost
worshipful--and in the deep mimetic muscles
of the human face, where true
manhood resides--only 
loving kindness.
                           I spoke
no French. In dozens
of conversations spanning a quarter
century or more, your English saw us
through.
              Real
what would you have me do
with the disastrous words 
of our last talk?

"Are you okay?"
"I am dying of cancer."
"What kind?"
"The worst you can get."
"How long do they give you?"
"Two to three weeks."

Which turned out to be eight days.

​So you know, Real, 
I brought it home
to Galena, the 1950
Legnano track,
in the beautifully 
preserved,
god-awful
lizard green paint 
we love so much.

©Daniel Dahlquist