Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I can admit to certain things
I never learned to ride a bike.
In my young life I hid that fact,
Would make excuses not to go
On bicycle excursions.
I have the penmanship, not of a doctor, no,
A boy in the second grade, or third.
It is absurd when my offspring say
It’s my fault that they’re handicapped
By the hand they got from me.
I tell them, “Well, then, type.”
Is sometimes when I read a book
I read the ending first.
Our three kids are grownups now
With children of their own.
That doesn’t mean we’re less concerned
Than when those three of ours were new!
Nor can we wrap the grandkids up
In bubble wrap so they won’t break
Their bones or hearts along the way.
From back to front.