ON THE ROAD AGAIN

"What do you know for sure?"

My neighbor means no harm

by asking... 

Every morning without fail

when he sees me mounting

my bicycle.

Neither of us goes to work

as we once did every day...

No demand

for certainty from anybody 

so there is no striving for

disambiguation.

He wouldn't understand,

so I don't make the effort

to explain

that knowing for sure

anything isn't important

any more.

What I want when I ride

down the hill to nowhere

in particular

is to know I know I exist...

I am... and in my going I feel

my being.