Poetry Friday and Contest Reminder

"When Swingsets Pumped"
by Paul W. Hankins

Summer always fell
between the years
that I wore Keds sneakers
and clothes with matching animal tags,
where a kid couldn't go wrong so long
as they trusted the tiger's stripes
would not betray his solid undercoating.

The hill across the road
would promise sledding later
and apologized for letting grass grow
in the paths beat down, father in the back,
by the family toboggan.

We taunted the armies
allowing them to pitch tents
in maple trees only to take a stick
and rip a