The Rush

The Rush 
1953

Trailing behind my big brother, 
his boasting friends
into the dark wood
the edge of a deep ravine
oaks sporting thick grape vines
strongest and best for swinging

Tattletale Johnny hears me
Your baby sister’s sneaking— 
Snickers    We’ll goad her
into swinging.
She’s too small, a scaredy-cat, 
my brother snapped
But that’s why I long for
a chance to fly     proving 
a worthy tagalong
Pudge Paul tests the vine
tugging, then runs and swings
it creaks, but holds his weight
as he sails over open space

He passes the vine to me
Okay, braggart, your turn
Let’s see what you’ve got
My brother looks away, uncertain.
I drag the vine uphill
sweaty hands, shallow breath,
 praying I don’t pee my pants, 
don’t fall, don’t die     
Vine clasped hard, 
I hurtle down the slope, push off
weightless, swinging
Did it! I’m free!