swimming lessons

it's scary when

your father

takes off the training wheels.

with wrench in hand

he bends over

your bike

and unscrews the rattling

pair of wheels

that have kept you upright.

you got this, he says,

giving you a push,

down the hill.

you hit a pole,

then a fence and go

sprawling into the street.

he laughs,

then picks you up.

let's try this again,

he says,

as your mother holds

her breath

and tries not to cry.

swimming lessons 

are next week.