Monday, September 29, 2014

The Bicycle Incident

This is my day for sharing snippets of memoir. Because I have family visiting this week I don't have much time so I am going to share a poem I wrote a few months ago telling about an incident that happened to me when I was in the fifth grade.  Please feel free to share a memory in the comments or on your own blog and link up using the button at the bottom of this post.

We were in fifth grade.
My friend sent him a note
asking if he liked me
He wrote back and said,
"Yes, in fact I love her."
I didn't care for him.

(my 5th grade school picture)
I was riding my bike one day
heading for a piano lesson.
I had to pass his house.
He called to me.
I didn't stop but
continued on my way.

He jumped on his bike.
I rode fast, very fast.
He rode faster.
He caught up to me,
reached out his hand and said,
"I've wanted to do this for a long time."

Then he pushed me.
I felt myself falling.
I hit the pavement hard.
I was out for a time,
then somehow stood up
putting my bike upright.

Then I found myself
ringing the doorbell
at my teacher's house.
I was a little unsteady,
and my skin somewhat bloody
from scrapes on my face and knees.

My teacher was shocked,
said to lie on the couch,
and proceeded to call my parents.
"But," I said,
"I might get blood on it."
"Oh, don't you worry about that."

She cleansed my wounds,
and comforted me
until my parents arrived.
They asked questions like
"How did you get here?"
I could not remember.

I kept asking about my bike.
They said it was okay.
I insisted on knowing.
When I saw the crooked handlebars,
it all came back to me,
how difficult it was to ride.

My parents took me by the house
of that naughty little boy
to show his mother what he did.
His mother called him in.
He saw me bandaged up.
She just sent him to his room...

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