April 4 : poem 1

 It’s rather like this:

You learn to ride a bike with trainer wheels.

It’s just a larger version of a tricycle 

and you aren’t allowed

to take it into the street.

You peddle up and down the driveway

determined to master

the art of balance.

Some kids younger than you

have already learned

and now seek 

to undermine your confidence,

fill your ears with taunts and chants.

You must field their insults

with composure

while trying not to crash.

It is the stuff of childhood.

Someone said 

‘you must walk before you can run’

but more importantly

you must first sweep the drive

with the maddening clatter of trainers.

You must tread water in the shallow end of the pool

wearing water wings,

endure the embarrassment of  a booster chair.

No one jumps on their two-wheeler

and glides smoothly ‘round the block

on the first try. 

You scrape your knee,

you get back on,

you scrape your knee again.

The distress that arises from forgetting

that simple lesson

can steal your equilibrium.

make you fall flat.

It’s rather like this:

Trainers are there for a  reason.

You may not like it but pace yourself. 

Sooner or later

everyone learns to ride a bike.