Past the sissy girls.
Mother covered her eyes,
Father nibbled his moustache.
I urged my steed into the air with a passionate
Squeeze on the pedals,
And I was flying, head thrown back,
Laughing into the sizzling blue sky.
I did not ever have to come down.
Not if I didn't want to.
(c)Laura J. Bobrow 2008
published in The Poet's Domain, Vol 24
Live Wire Press, Charlottesville, VA
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