Not a bike to boast about, it had one speed: forward.
To stop I back-peddled. But hey! it was a bike,
no one was looking, and every downhill minute was wonderful.
RIDING A BIKE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FORTY YEARS
jacket-wings flying
I am a bird
a victorious Icarus
feathers metal-held
spokes blurring
I soar over the cliff top
on a golden chariot
drawn by four beasts
bear, lynx, coyote, eagle
reins lengthen along their backs
through a breath of cloud
beyond the turning-circle of planets
and I am gone
gone to Never-Never-Land
pirates vanquished
lost childhood found
Poem-of-the-Month in Long Story Short September 2009
wow this impressive is it like a real story or fiction ….
Glad you like it, it is absolutely true!