the house and the bike are old,
one is on stilts, being raised from so many
years of sinking
the workers smoke cigarettes in the front
and smiled at my compliments.
the bike is loaded with red wine,
six bottles in a special bag,
a seventh tucked in the side
the wine guy insisted on it.
this old bike, this old house have
so many stories to tell, of falling leaves
and whispers in the wind.
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