I was seven.
The sidewalk lured.
The Huffy beckoned.
The hill...
The hill...
Skinny locomotive legs
Pumping madness blindness happy
Freedom flight pumping pumping
The hill...
The hill...
Baseball cards in spokes were roaring
Soaring wheels and squinting windy
Boymachine thrumming heavy
The hill...
The hill...
Swerving Fords and Chevys curving
Hopping curbs and doggie-dodging
Lightspeed hoping
Seven and no sign of stopping
Hit the rock...

Funny how it all got slow, now
Boy/machine were separated
One went one way one the other
Gravity
The enemy