P.a.D. 3

I am continuing with the “poem-a-day” challenge for National Poetry Writing Month. As you saw on day 1, I tend to be more conversational, sometimes lyrical, not always formulaic when it comes to poetry. I am writing and saving one poem per day, following prompt ideas from Robert Brewer’s Poetry Asides blog. (Yesterday’s was about shadows – more trite than I intended, and I won’t bother you with it.) Today’s poem is to be “a tentative poem,” so here is what I have.

The bicycle

Walking is simple, they say.
I just take a step, and I won’t fall.
It worked when I was 2; it’s easier now.

Biking is supposed to go the same way.
I just peddle, and I won’t fall.
It worked when I was 10; it’s easier now.
Mmm hmm.

But what if it’s not easier?
And what if I fall?
Not “if,” but “when.”
Get a cane, sell the bike. And shed a silent tear.

But must that be the end?
What else worked when I was 2?
The red tricycle, ridden on fantastic adventures, with great fanfare
…and confined to our driveway.

My balance is closer to 2 than 10,
so perhaps the adventures can begin again.
The red trike is long gone, but could a big blue one work?
…and can it leave the driveway?

Author: Angie

I am a wife, a mother, a writer and a child of God. Since 1997, I've lived with multiple sclerosis, and I find that when life slows down, I am able to see more of the lessons that God has for me to learn.

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