The Challenge

Boring summer Idle time and Empty streets Endless days Watching cars And spinning dreams. Sitting Feet on the ground Looking down For something to see Music drifting Through open windows Words from a song "It hurts to be in love" Made me feel Lost Somewhere between fourteen and twenty. A shadow Tall and straight Broad shoulders Athletic gait No mistake My uncle Stanley. Iron man Strong hands gripped my shoulders He asked if I could ride my bike Over the Bridge From Queens To Brooklyn Four miles from where we stood What for? I asked No reason he said. At two miles the Bridge blocked the sky A major hurdle Of old gray steel Built like a giant erector set Narrow and short If I fell No one could help Just a wall Between me And an empty road to heaven. In the heat I rode He followed in his Proud chariot White Olds 88 Sweat pouring down my back Fatigued and cramped White knuckles gripping handle bars I kept pedaling Wheels turning round and round Blurry motion In double time Distracted by all I didn't hear Until his words slowly sunk in "You can do it." Bridge heavy With trucks and cars Dirt and grime Dull browns and grays Shadows of color Up the Bridge and over Coasting down to Greenpoint Narrow streets Houses row on row Crowded apartments Chicken coops in summer Iceboxes in winter and A bar on every corner. I crossed the Bridge For me the day was over Catching my breathe I turned to catch A grin on uncle's face Was he surprised that I finished? No, not at all The devil in his eyes Said he expected it. Days pass into months Months into years Memories are forgotten Like so many pages Torn from an old calendar Life goes round in a circle Starting where it stopped But through it all I'll always remember that summer's day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You are logged