Never Forget -- Sept. 11
The Bicycle

What is the best gift for a boy
Or maybe a young man?

A cherished red bike that will
Take him over miles of land.

We bought him that gift
Our hearts bursting with pride.

We watched that bike
Take our boy over a long joyous ride.

He rode to school;
He rode to his job.

On weekends he rode hard;
His bike taking him up over that far knob.

Our boy grew up
Then he moved far away.

We waved good-bye and
Whispered “God Speed,” as we prayed.

His new job was high-up.
He was proud and prepared.

His bike stayed safe
Behind the garage door it faired.

Our boy's bike waits;
I polish away the dust.

I am thankful it will never know
A tear would create rust.

Our boy, you see,
Left us that day.

We watched on the news
We were so far far away.

A long journey we then took
And we searched with the Finest.

We left our boy there,
God knows-he’s at rest.

When we returned home
I went straight to our boy's bike.

I cried and I cried
My tears annointing his Last Rite.

Our boy's pride and his joy
Will always stay there.

In a corner in the garage
a bike waits for a boy so fare.

You see, on a day long ago
A day dark, full of evil.

Two buildings reached high-then
The whole world heard them tremble.

They fell-
One, then the other.

We watched in horror
Heard screams from son's mothers.

Our boy, in that horrible moment
I know cried for God's love.

One day, only God knows when,
I will watch His Son come from above.

All mothers will cry with cheers of gladness
When sons and daughters they will see.

And I will then discover a shiny red bike
And our boy peddling towards his dad and me.

Copyright Kathleen M. Brosius   September, 11, 2011
Inspired after watching an interview with some moms who
lost a son on that day