NaPoWriMo Day 22: Hear the dragon roar

 
Day 22 of the NaPoWriMo challenge at www.napowrimo.net.
 
Prompt: In her poem, Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons, Diane Wakoski is far more grateful than I ever managed to be, describing the act of playing as a “relief” from loneliness and worry, and as enlarging her life with something beautiful. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something you’ve done – whether it’s music lessons, or playing soccer, crocheting, or fishing, or learning how to change a tyre – that gave you a similar kind of satisfaction, and perhaps still does.

Hear the dragon roar
 
It was a balancing act,
human versus bicycle,
this steel dragon once so reliant,
always doing my bidding,
now a scarefest on two wheels,
stabilisers deftly removed by my father.
 
It stood still, silent, kind of judging,
suspecting it wouldn’t be upright much longer.
I think my dad knew too.
But he just watched. He didn’t judge.
I took a deep breath.
Dad held it steady. I needed that.
 
I remember the wobble, the veer, the jiggle,
the tremble, the twist, the inevitable splat!
You spent quite a lot of time on concrete
when learning how to tame a bike,
unstabilised, untethered,
a wild horse exerting its will.
 
It was one of those passages into adulthood,
the bye-bye, sayonara, to those extra wheels
that said you were still a child.
I wasn’t claiming to be grown up.
I knew I’d never be a contender for the Tour de France.
I’d spend a lifetime sucking mud.
 
But it was sweet when that metal machine stayed up.
Jaws silent. In motion. Reliant.
Steady as she goes.
We’d speed down the steepest, highest hill,
kinda dizzy with the thrill of it,
free as the wind.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, April 22, 2025