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!