To My Children. Poem by Tara Schley

To My Children.

I wish: we were all 13yrs old
and on a hot summer night
I'd sneak out to go
ride bikes with you.
For a laugh we'd yell at people,
Faking that our bikes didn't have working
brakes, making people scramble out of our way.
When the high schoolers drove by,
we'd act cool, like we stood
a chance to be invited to party with them.
We'd stay out well past when the
street lights lit up and collected a
large swarm of flying insects.
We'd bike to a park, lay down on the cool grass
and devour sugar laden snacks we bought from
the only convenience store that was still open.
In the morning I'd be your
parent again. On that summer night
we'd be a young together bike gang,
racing each other down
mostly deserted streets, our laughter
echoing off the pavement
into the star filled sky.

Tara Schley

Wednesday, December 22, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood,parenthood,affinity and love,fun
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