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Feb 2020
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.
Written by
Greg Muller
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