Clinging to the wheel

By
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.





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