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Yellow Wheels
by
Courtney Hanes |
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Once, when I was seven,
I rode my bike into the freshly painted garage door,
Wheels spinning faster than I could,
New bike, new brakes, new speed,
I crashed and fell,
Lying on my side,
the bike became heavier than I remember,
Don't help me up, I got this,
My red bike on top of me,
Yellow wheels the color of courage, spinning around
These wheels took me to the neighbor's house,
a lonely widow who missed love,
We picked flowers for him in exchange for candy,
from too many Halloweens past,
It was stale, but better than nothing
These wheels took me to caves where I'd dig for rock crystals with my nails
The shiny stones were worthless, but they made us feel rich,
Riding home with yellow wheels,
we were unstoppable and proud,
Like fairies dancing in the too-tall grass, small, free
I could have ordered a different bike,
with wheels of pink and teal,
but I didn't want to wait for them,
I was impatient, and wanted you.
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--Submitted by Chanes on 2012-07-17.
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