Bicycling in Belize

Willa Schneberg

Two shiny bikes are waiting

on the porch for tomorrow’s excursion.

She is afraid

of the simple machine.

 

 

He plucks a fragrant plumeria

blossom and tucks it behind her ear.

He promises he will hold onto the bike,

won’t let her fall.

 

 

She remembers a pink tricycle,

fluttering plastic strips,

her little legs pumping.

 

 

Soon she is peddling along a mud-packed road.

There is room for everyone —

trucks, golf carts, bicycles,

and this tourist

who is gliding by

ringing her tiny bell.

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