Look at the sky
and track a pink tricycle's skidded scrubs
of white knobby tires through blue today.
Let cold seep up
through a slab to ankles, remind of knees -
what grand joints they! Applaud them,
write odes, hymns, psalms, sonnets
to knees
for all
they have been
but mostly for trikes
you've spun peddles on
racing the moon
for the sun.
rate
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 8
Rose, you should read Lynn's book: Handwording.
She takes the reader on a warm and poignant trip through the places and people of her childhood. A wonderful read.
Thank you, Rose -- you are lovely to say so.