May 17, 2012

Fourth Grade Smelled Like Freedom

Bright blue and shiny chrome
Twenty-four inches of exhilaration
Manufactured by Firestone
My new bike, a birthday gift
Two-wheeled love


Modifications were made
The wire basket held piano lesson books
and snacks from the convenience store
The headlight and taillight, powered by my pedaling
Allowed me to venture out after dark


Wind in my face
Away from my mother's displeasure
Tires spinning on pavement
The sound of my breathing
Quickened by my pumping legs


Fourth grade was the beginning of my independence
Disappearing, exploring
Conquering steep hills,
braking hard to skid at the corner
Baseball cards in the spokes announced my arrival


Mama Kat inspired today's poem: Share a story from fourth grade.


Not my actual bike, but isn't it pretty?




7 comments:

  1. I'm visiting from Mama's Losin' it... and I so enjoyed your post! :)

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  2. That looks like my bike! Only mine was bright green!

    Great writing.

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  3. This makes me want to pull out my bike and go for a ride!

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  4. I was riding on the handle bars with you. Great poem.

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  5. I can relate. :) My parents were not at all keen on me learning how to ride a bike. Understandable, the roads were dangerous there. But at some point (I think I was 11) I decided to go ahead and teach myself.

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  6. You are SO good at these!! Love it when you go the poetry route!

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  7. I think your poetic side is so so strong. More more more!

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Thanks for stopping by. I love your comments...I get all warm inside just reading them!