My morning ride

By Yinan Chen (www.goodfreephotos.com
(gallery, image))
 [see page for license], via Wikimedia Commons

Tears of sweat running down my cheek

Burning my eyes, with them closed

I am climbing along a mountain side

The hillside path twists and turns

Towards a vista of green valley, a river

Rippling below. I reach the top, 

Imagination giving me strength to push

Through. The ride down is bumpy and richly

Sun-dappled, the course brings me home

Safely. I wipe off the emotion and exertion

And open my eyes. 

did he know

Did he know when he bought her the scooter

That there would be chipped teeth or

Scraped knees?

Given in innocence, how could he have guessed

There would be tears and scars?