I am the peloton. A noisy consensus
of bets and ambitions that takes my riders
faster than they can go
alone. I am generous
I am never
the same
I am
rarely
wrong.
Even the bravest, the most thoughtful
and deliberate
are silenced
by my sprinters
and my climbers.
But there is always dissent.
A showy independent makes a brash
and doomed assertion on the ascent.
Today, Vino was circled in gold
after one last
difference of opinion
with a Colombian’s blind-spot.
Under a Sky of blue
and red, a herald for my might,
I was broken
and robbed
by a headstrong Kazhakh.
