Evil Knievel Gives It One Last Whirl

I bought a bike on Sunday to get some much needed exercise. My Father couldn't have been happier to the point you would have thought it was his bike since he went over it with a fine tooth comb, examining every mechanical part and cleaning it.

The following is inspired by him talking and the incident in the garden.

Bicycle

Aching bones injected with nitro
start well
then groan into strained face which
eats pain like a sponge.
Leg finally over the metal shire
prunes turn to peaches
wrinkles to a child’s uncertainly as
wheels wobble, feet lift,
guide the fork onwards.

A stutter
sudden stop
Evil Knievel falls
propels worry to the moon.
Yet, no crack of anguish but a bounce
with grass beneath the feet once more,
the frame is held,
holds memories of youth
and a father long since gone.