A street hill steep and gently curved
Begging to be ascended by my two-wheeler
Not walked up but climbed by pedaling
A winding slow ride to the top
Then turning to descend with speed
The rushing of the wind
The blur of the spoked wheels
The quiet hum of the tires on pavement
In an exhilarating moment, letting loose the handlebars
Steering without hands
Leaning forward to approaching flat street
Only turning to do it all over.
Climbing the street with Union Hardware No.5
Skates clamped to my old shoes
Skate key in my pocket
Just to skate back down
Eagle splitting, sidestepping, ‘formin', lookin' cool
The roar of steel wheels
Spinning and doing a backward stop
Only turning to do it all over.
Childhood memories free and unfettered
The carefree play on many a day
Like a twineless kite enjoying the wind.
December 24,2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem