Wheels of Freedom

In the shed, dust settles, thick as regret,

a bicycle waits, like dreams unkempt.

Rusty handlebars, my fingers beset,

it takes just a moment for memories to tempt.

I twisted the grip, my heart raced alive,

tires deflating, I pedaled back time.

With each turn of the wheel, I learned how to thrive,

through streets where the pavement and freedom would chime.

The taste of the wind, the rush of the air,

reminded me, once, I thought I could fly,

and all of my worries, all burdens laid bare,

would vanish behind me, a whisper, a sigh.