Journey 2 Poem by Tamir Greenberg

I've touched the asphalt, but didn't pray.
I uttered words and let the wind
come in through my shirt.
My fingers felt a white pebble
and its touch was sweet and cold.
I rejoiced and sang: Air.
I almost remembered all the words!
Later I wished to go into town
but a boy delayed me.
His palm was warm and therefore I said nothing.
He asked that I draw his portrait
in gray water-color. I refused
against my will and watched the skies.
I said: The song birds of the Twentieth Century
are a flock of F-16s
but he laughed in my face
and took off on a CC 750 bike.