The Bike I Kept
The first boy I loved rode a green bike with cream-colored trim.
It was a cruiser, and he rode it to the beach the first time we kissed. We stood under the iron wood trees, pine needles and soft white sand below our bare feet. Our lips touched with the innocence of youth, and I knew I would love him for a very long time.
In the summer he moved away but left me that bike, and as the years passed, and time rusted away its luster, still the bike remained, a keepsake of a moment past.
A Promise Made
We rode in the rain that day,
leaving speckled tracks in the engorged earth below our tires.
The rain drops soaked through our mud stained gear and down our skin, smiles hidden behind full-faced helmets.
When we came to the lookout the sound of our motors faded away across the horizon of emerald trees and cerulean ocean.
We stood, together gazing into a distance when he reached into his pocket and retrieved the delicate gold band that signified our love, and at that moment a promise was made that we would kept for years to come.
I’ll Love You Forever
You were something I wished for
in a temple in Japan. Around a giant wheel inscribed with a thousand prayers. We turned the wheel, and each wish for you was multiplied by every hand carved prayer. My precious daughter, along for the ride. I’ll love you forever.