Curbside ending, laden thick with pollen
swollen eyes fought tears from my sunburned face.
Racing at high-speed down slope on the green,
sheen scratched flat off when my body fell dull.
Hull split the wheels, turned my bike to a mash
crashing to pavement with one final choke.
Spokes bending out, metal paper-clip twists
blistered to useless my fancied red shoes
used to pedal,crimson wings and a prayer,
air filled their soles like a symphony worn.
Torn way too soon by a trick freshly learned
burned in a fail, scalding freedom with grief.
Brief fun gone slack in one summer’s purlieu.
Adieu, my favorite red shoes, adieu.
Linking to a wonderful site called WithRealToads for the first time. I could not resist attempting a chained rhyme, prompted by Hedgewitch. Also linking at Dverse where Fred is encouraging us to use foreign tongues in our work.