The Bike

16 Nov

Where the bike came from,

no-one really knew,

although we learned to ride on it.

The rusting wheels

buckled

and the brakes

were our feet.

It leaned against

the lamp post and,

from time to time,

became the centre of attention.

One of us would mount,

the others gathered

to observe;

and one by one

we’d wobble off;

our triumph shared,

by all the owners of

the bike.

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