king of the castle

I’m the king of the castle,
and you’re the dirty rascals!

it was a call to a dare:
get me down, if you can!

Children in snowsuits and parkas ran up
the snowbank to flail at the yelling kid
and try to haul him down

The bigger the guy
the more the girls wanted
to tackle him —
it was an exciting mystery
the closeness of a girl
even one bundled in
a snowsuit: her
voice was higher, softer her
understanding of the fun you were having
more deliberate and strangely exhilerating

rolling breathless down the bank
wrapped with a tackling girl
seemed worth losing, more like
winning as you
got older.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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