Sad Bicycle
In September the Round Britain Cycle Race came through The Scottish Borders, and there were all kinds of decorated bikes round the place, one on top of a postbox in Kelso, others in shop windows. This little bike was all by itself on the weir, and looked quite pretty there on a summer’s day. Now months later the bike is parked under the bridge, among the rubble, rusting away. It was already old and single-wheeled in September, but it had its day. It reminds me of the Hans Andersen story about the Christmas tree. When the Christmas tree was thrown out after Christmas when I was a child I felt sorry for it, and went out and sang carols to it to cheer it up.
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