Writing 101

writing. living. learning.

Menu Close

self-absorbed, 5:00 on a friday afternoon

Of your own accord
Training wheels discarded
On the garage floor.
With my fingers through my hair
I said sure.
We hit the black top
Lot next door,
Knowing the fragility of self–
Esteem and bones.
Like that drunken teenager
I remember from years ago
On his bike by the Taco Bell,
I smiled and held my breath
And watched you crash
Into the chain-link fence,
Cheating most certain death;
You laughed.
Behind I ran, suffering,
In my work loafers and middle-aged gut.
You didn’t notice me there,
Hanging on, until I let go.
You kicked your legs out
With all abandon
And careened helplessly
Into the barberry bush.
You’re just six I sighed
And promised we’d try again
By and by.

© 2020 Writing 101. All rights reserved.

Theme by Anders Norén.