All day today I have felt a lead weight in my stomach
getting heavier and heavier
the weight of loss.
The depth of grief
is now encircling me:
I have gone through denial
and anger
through the prayer that faith in fate
will restore my loss.
I thought I was above it all
that no stolen object
could cause any great concern.
I was wrong
that bike was part of me
and who I was—
I can't be that person anymore.
But change is change
who am I to argue
when my faith in fate hands me an assignment?
It's just possible that this bit of luck
may not play out so badly
in the end,
one never knows.
(Nonetheless, fate is a fucker.)
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