Letting Go

My father used to hold the handlebars

And never let me ride alone

Until one day I finally got it.

I used to put my feet on the ground

And wobble when the bike

Went left.

I think I tried until I had

Nothing left.

He wasn’t there the day I did it

I lifted both feet and managed

To place the two of them on the pedals.

My father missed the day

I finally rode my bike

And he never got to feel

The satisfaction of

Letting go.

I guess I never really felt like I was

Riding alone.