From a Russell Hoban poem someone rather rudely sent me, when I first learned to ride 🙁
Esmé on Her Brother’s Bicycle
One foot on, one foot pushing,
Esmé starting off beside
Wheels too tall to mount astride,
Swings the off leg forward featly,
Clears the high bar nimbly, neatly,
With a concentrated frown,
Bears the upper pedal down
As the lower rises, then
Brings her whole weight round again,
Leaning forward, gripping tight,
With her knuckles showing white,
Down the road goes, fast and small,
Never sitting down at all.
Still not nimble or neat, but definitely cracked the “knuckles showing white” bit 😀