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 Feb 2020 Autumn Ehrhardt
Naravi
my friends have better friends
my best friends have other bests
wonder if one day I'd mean as much to my friends as they mean to me
Metallic hinges squeaked and then squawked
Single sliced rubber seat swung under a lime green bar.
An adolescent boy. Bemoaning his brother’s turn.
Heave, **. Swinging hard.
Capturing the tops of trees.
Leaning a few feet off the ground returning once more with fast pace.
Rose-colored cheeks, squinted,
One tear then two, until both cheeks puffed
Runway skids in the wood chips. Cruised him to a halt.
Sniffles, and tears were handled
Hand in hand
They were scripted together for life.

— The End —