I snap the switch.
A bright blue bicycle
leaps in front
of my eyes, suddenly
illuminated, brilliant
as an old friend
in this cluttered garage.

I move forward
like a man in a dream,
I take the grips
like a handshake,
I fondle the streamers
like a young girl's hair.

Young girls and bicycles
and training wheels
to be discarded.

My son,
you will
cast me off like
these training wheels,
and scorn my support.
Already, you think
you can find your
balance without me;
already I am desperate
to say "Not yet!"

And you have not
even grown into
these training wheels.
You are like a shining bicycle
just waiting to be ridden.

I think: "Young girls
and bicycles" and
snap down the switch.

Return to the Table of Contents.