It was early in the morning
Been to the hospital and back
Strapped safely in her new car seat
Back there tiny bundle of joy
Glanced down on the way up the stairs
Motorcycle was chained below
Thinking how it had been ridden
Fast, wild, reckless rides many times
Comes change with that precious bundle
Demanding more care and support
Death must hide until she grows up
Another addiction to quell
A shiny red Harley beckons
No. "The last time" cannot be had
_ _ _ - Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved
- I'm linked with Rommy at The Weekly Scribblings # 84, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/08/weekly-scribblings-84-last-time.html?m=1
- Rommy would like for us to shape our words around the phrase, “the last time”. We are free to interpret what that phrase says to us, but we must use those words somewhere in our piece.
- This is true of me but I didn't want to set my write in first person.
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Sad to give up riding the Harley – but for what a joyful reason!
ReplyDeleteOh so sweet. A lovely dilemma! I think you made the right choice! Karin (Maincddaily). Take care!
ReplyDeleteSadly boys must put away their toys to wear the fatherhood hat!
ReplyDeleteI had a cute little red sports car that I kept well maintained for a few years, but had to give it up because there was no room for a baby carrier when Darling Eldest was born.
ReplyDeleteSuch attachment one can never let it go.
ReplyDeleteLove it
ReplyDelete