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North American Dreaming: King Of Spades

William Burkholder recalls the joy of riding his first bike.

Do please visit Troubadour21 magazine which Bill co-edits. www.troubadour21.com

Sycamore trees and bent sidewalks,
dancing a crooked jig.
Counting the cracks with each turn of the wheel.
Two-tire conveyance,
spokes chirping to the king of spades,
clothes-pinned therein.
My black and white racer,
my first,
Dad stood in the driveway,
snapping photos.
My world was good that day,
my smile was pure,
my conveyance,
two wheels,
spokes chirping to the king of spades,
clothes-pinned therein,
brand spanking new spokes,
chrome spokes, shining,
remembered now,
in memories flash.
The spokes chirping,
yes, chirping to the king of spades,
Clothes-pinned therein.

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