Spoke Harp

I scurried down the porch steps and followed the sidewalk until I reached an old blue bicycle locked to a lamppost. Its front wheel was parked right at my eye level, radiating shiny silver spokes like a giant circular loom! I climbed onto the black rubber tire, planted my back legs against the tread, and reached out with my front legs to pluck the thin metal wires. Twang! Ting-ping! Each spoke had a slightly different tension and tone, letting me scamper up and down the rubber rim to strum a lively morning melody.