to a cyclist on a winter evening

Hey, you, / you riding a bicycle in the dark and cold/ with a little yellow light on your helmet and a white one and a red one/ on your handlebars and the back of your seat respectively/ that alternately dim and flash as you pedal./  Yeah, you./

You are three floating lights, silent except for tire hiss on the wet sidewalk./  It’s really sort of creepy.

Be aware of this as you come up behind someone/ who is listening to “Welcome to Night Vale*” on headphones.

You should get a bell or something.

(*”The Shape in Grove Park.”)

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