They had buried it with him,
The red tricycle
That he called his friend.
And forty years passed.
He was three.
Now he would be a man.
When his parents felt ready,
His father, old now, dug in the garden.
Gently they took his small bones
And moved them to a family grave.
His friend, the tricycle?
It rests now in a museum.
#astoryinverse #summerfunjr #bingo
@4thhouseontheleft @StayCurious
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