the world looks different

v3 

The world looks different this way up,

as I careen over my cycle in a slow arc,

like my 7 year old grandson

showing off his front flips and somersaults in mid-air.

Only thing, I'm 70.

I'm not sure I should be doing this kind of thing. 

I land with a thud, 

the cycle following after me, 

and landing on me. 

Thus pinioned, I take stock. 

Glasses intact,

no obvious broken limbs.

Ah that's my daughter 

coming back for me. 

That took a while. 

She lifts the cycle off me. 

I sit still. It's kind of comfortable here on the grass - let me get my bearings. 

Thank goodness for my layers of padding - 

I knew those extra helpings would not hurt. 

Right.

I should get up.

I look ruefully at my trusty green bike. 

Special gift from the son. 

Not too battered, but the chain is hanging loose.

I dust myself off, 

and turn the bike on its head. 

I spin the pedals a few times, 

check the  alignment. 

A good hard turn...

Voila, it works! 

Nothing more than grease on my hands.

We continue, 

under the light of the full moon,

rapidly fading in the dawn sky.

Let's try a simpler route today 

shall we? 

Right on!

-----

v2 

The world looks different this way up,

as I careen over my cycle in a slow arc,

like my 7 year old grandson

showing off his front flips and somersaults in mid-air.

Only thing, I'm 70.

I'm not sure I should be doing this kind of thing. 

I land with a thud, 

the cycle following after me, 

and landing on me. 

Thus pinioned, I take stock. 

Glasses intact,

no obvious broken limbs.

Ah that's my daughter 

coming back for me. 

That took a while. 

She lifts the cycle off me. 

I sit still. It's kind of comfortable here on the grass - let me get my bearings. 

Thank goodness for my layers of padding - 

I knew those extra helpings would not hurt. 

Right.

I should get up.

I look ruefully at my trusty green bike. 

Special gift from the son. 

Not too battered, but the chain is off. 

I dust myself off, 

and turn the bike on its head. 

I spin the pedals a few times, 

check the  alignment. 

A good hard turn...

Voila, it works! 

Nothing more than grease on my hands.

We continue, 

under the light of the full moon,

rapidly fading in the dawn sky.

Let's try a simpler route today 

shall we? 

Right on!

------

The world looks different 

this way up,

as I careen over my cycle 

in a slow arc,

like my 7 year old grandson 

showing off his front flips and somersaults in mid-air.

Only thing, I'm 70.

I'm not sure I should be doing this kind of thing. 

I land with a thud, the cycle following after me and landing on me. 

An angel had been guiding its fall though, it carefully encases me, without jabbing at me. 

Let me sit here for a bit and take stock. 

Glasses unbroken, no obvious broken limbs.

Ah that's my daughter coming back for me. That took a while. 

She lifts the cycle off me. 

I sit still. It's kind of comfortable here on the grass - let me get my bearings. 

Thank goodness for my layers of padding - I knew those extra helpings would not hurt. 

Right. 

i should get up.

I look ruefully at my trusty aqua green  bike. Special gift from the son. 

Not too battered, but the chain is off. 

I dust myself off, and turn the bike

on its head. 

I forcefully turn the pedals a few times, checking for alignment.

 

Voila it works! Nothing more than grease on my hands.

We continue, under the light of the full moon, rapidly fading in the dawn sky.

Let's try a simpler route today shall we? 

Right on!