Jungle Gym.

When I wore ponytails and wanted a pony,
We called it a jungle for a reason.
A metal forest of monkey bars,
Where herds of girls schemed in teams—
Dispatching soldiers onto the battlefield
To sniper boys with kisses—
The original biological warfare.
My favorite part of the jungle,
The back corner where the pavement stopped
And the weeds began,
An oasis—where balls didn’t fly like bombs.
I played on the cusp,
Clinging to the chain link fence, draped in a knot of vines
As tangled as my hair—
Singing to myself,
Smelling honeysuckles.