Behind our house long ago
There was a road
near the school with
wooden fence
Our seventy-five year old
granny at the shady corner of the house
Happily
chopping firewood for cooking
We children-younger sister and I
Confidently started learning to
ride our old, faithful bicycles!
Ducks and a fat turkey innocently
marching to our neighbor's
house
'Red woman'... that's her nickname
was patiently
waiting to feed them
Our ears attracted by her sweet
calling to her feathery brood!
Automatically our eyes
turned to her direction
Suddenly
our shaky bicycles
kissed the wooden fence!
Nobody was laughing
Our faces paling
Our legs trembling
Granny stopped
chopping the firewood
'Sorry, granny we were not
concentracting '
'Tomorrow we won't be looking
backwards' we promised
We understood how
our old bicycles were
hurting and maybe
crying!
We really learnt our
lesson of loving and caring for
our dear faithful bicycles
Had to master cycling,
That's for sure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem takes us to our child hood... and then the real truth of life...