The following is a short poem I wrote when I got my first bike. It’s an old poem, but one I still love.
Pink Bike
Cute princess bike, last one in the store,
Cheap bright pink paint,
Plastic streamers sprouting from the handlebars,
Banana seat with cartoon flowers,
Rode as fast as I could downhill,
Wind in my face, hands in the air,
Hit a pothole,
Wrecked it,
Skinned my knee,
Scraped the pink paint,
Smiled.
P. A. Harper writes about sustainability in all its many forms, is the founder of the Brooklyn Writer’s Exchange, loves to read, drinks too much tea, and writes fiction.
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