Hurtling, a Villanelle

When I cycle downhill, I still hurtle,
As I did when I first learnt to ride.
I love this speed, and wish for steeper hills.

I look ahead, avoiding potholes, cats.
I’m sure there are nice things on either side.
When I cycle downhill, I still hurtle

Pushing for ever-higher speed and that’s
The reason. There’s nothing here to hide:
I love this speed, and wish for steeper hills.

I pass constructions workers in hard hats.
My helmet stayed at home. (My grin is wide.)
When I cycle downhill, I still hurtle.

There is no death-wish here. (I avoid fats!)
The opposite is true. (Do not yet chide.)
I love this speed and wish for steeper hills.

I love my life. Not for apparent stats,
Nor just for now. There’s been no downward slide.
When I cycle downhill, I still hurtle:
I love this speed, and wish for steeper hills.

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