Coming towards us on the sand
a man on a bicycle
carefully balances, with one hand,
a watermelon on his shoulder.
We all smile, turning to look,
because it is green striped and full,
because the track of the tipsy wheel
wobbles and weaves down the sand,
because the mans bent back, over
the handlebars, shakes with laughter.
—Christie (because it's melon season)
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