Poem #8

His hands are tight on the wheel

white knuckled

as mine were back then

I hear my father’s voice

:OK, easy on the turn:

:tap the brake:

:gentle, give ‘er gas:

never angry or impatient

imparting his skill

I channel that voice to my son

giving him wheels 

giving him wings


Categories: Bird photos, postcard poems | Tags: , , | 1 Comment

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One thought on “Poem #8

  1. Betty frezon

    Love the poem. Giving them wings is very important.

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