reminiscing

of tracks I sauntered
the clay-like dirt thicken
with dry air and sunlight
in a Summer day

holding the rusty bike
feet started to pedal
against the dry clay
i was taught to bike

feeling the scratch and wound and pain
i fell in the thickened ground
it hadn't rained for months
air was dry and humid

saw the blood, stained my nylon leggings
creating the cut, this thick dry clay
assumptions blossomed
colored the windless day

mind cluttered with darkness
eyes blindfolded
no, aye, nothing!
then to wake up in a bright white room.