10 November 2013

First Bike


The first time I rode a bike
I flew- blue bike handed down from brother
too big with the bar across the middle, so I stood up to pedal
until my legs were long enough to sit the saddle.

I imagined me growing as I rode,
as I went where I wanted with only me to decide
on long summer days, returned when I was done,
forgot all else. When did I learn to balance? Did I eat?

I only rode, wind on my skin waking me up,
taking me away.


Mary over at dVerse Poets Pub has us writing about childhood toys.

10 comments:

  1. ah yes the independence...going to all the places you want to go... increasing the radius significantly... so much fun..we also played all kinds of games on the bike...still love biking...it's a little bit like flying on some days...smiles

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    1. freedom and independence- a heady mixture...

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  2. ah a bike meant so much freedom...not just to go..but to feel like you were flying as well...wind in your face...i wore out so many bikes...ha....my first came out of a river after the flood...

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    1. Yes, that was the first of many- ost hand me downs or made by my father with components from the dump.

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  3. I remember as well what a 'heady' experience it was to finally know how to ride a two-wheeled bike. Those rides were so important indeed......

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    1. I started on my brother's bike so I didn't know there was anything before a two wheeler. My father didn't think I'd be able to ride it so I had to!

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  4. Ah, a beautiful, freeing memory.

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  5. Oh, I remember all of that! Except, my brothers were so much older than I was, that I got my own bike. I especially loved the part about feeling like she is growing as she rides, and the sense of self-determination. Wonderful!

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    Replies
    1. The memory feels so physical, even now, and the first feel of freedom was intoxicating.

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