your legs weren’t long enough

to reach the pedals.

You said, if we

closed our eyes;

we could be anywhere.

Just hold on tight.

You asked me where . . .

I remembered

our country home.

Fields of glowing corn,

ready for our father

loving hands.

The whispering wind

brushed my face.

We went further

on our journey.


Down that hill,

towards the stream,

where we went fishing

and rode home

just in time

for tea.

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

5 thoughts on “Brothers

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