Against a lamppost at Cedar and Greenwich,
it stands
dusted, war torn,
chained to the moment
of it’s own ceased labor,
awaiting the return of Juan Gutierrez,
from a morning delivery at One World Trade

Now a shrine,
it stands
decorated with flowers, flags and Spanish prayers,
it’s wiry basket tied with paper ribbons
it’s grey, skeletal frame encircled
with melted candle wax, folded letters of farewell
and crayon drawn teardrops

On the edge of ground zero
It stands,
a testament of one life, one story
of a hardworking young man
struggling, moving forward
to a place where bicycles
lead to dreams of better days ahead

*this poem originally appeared in Disorderly Conduct by Frank Messina (Wasteland Press, 2002).