Clinging to the wheel

December 2, 2008
By Jim Alexander, Glen Mills, PA

The plether on my legs,

Cold and icy;

I clung to the wheel

For a four year old driving is not easy.

We drove until night,

Poured over the summer sky;

Moms driving style

Could not steer itself.

I grabbed the wheel

She lets go;

Every turn I missed

She would regret letting me go.

You set me straight

Not a road made of dirt,

Then back to the store we went,

Still clinging to the wheel.

The author's comments:
it is one of my first memories. but it is also a symbol about my mother and my life. and how hard it is for her to let me go.

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