life gets a little

Life gets a little
sticky, like
riding a bike after
eating an apple. How
the handlebars cling
to your tacky fingers,
while your legs pump blood
and the sour taste lingers
tires whisper through leaves
as you toil uphill, well,
more like a shallow grade
you can make it, you will.

You'll make your pleas,
you'll state your plans,
you've got a thing or two to say
as soon as you get there
You're almost late, almost late
but you can make it with a minute to spare,
and skinned knees, and with scabs on your hands,
from where you wiped out last week - coming 'round
the final turn, eating gravel down the drive,
rolling up and through the door in one smooth motion,
a dive
and then cried.

- a spectacular entrance! As entrances go.
But as you near the final turn, this time
a little - bit - slow