Member-only story
Little Things We Do..Hummm
Why is it that as kids we sometimes
Cried until those older people,
Bigger than us would let us go out on a cold, damp
Afternoon; over to a nearby ratty playground?
Seating ourselves uncomfortably into the
Hardened seat of a squeaky ole swing —
Pushing our bodies so high we could… almost
Touch the sky. Then point to that starting spot way beneath us.
And do it over and over again.
Not being enough excitement for
The moment we prance over to the colorless
Slide. Scoot our butts down it’s long slippery ‘chute’.
Then, (as is done in the all-consuming ‘terror’
Known in downhill skiing); rush all the way down fast, then
Run right around and do it again, “pleaasseeee
Just one-more-time”. Once having ascended that ladder of cool
Stained metal, we felt we’d reached the summit.
Cold, tired, worn, no. Seems we just could not help ourselves.
Just had to repeatedly do some darned wild and scary things.
