FIGS COMMUNICATIONS

My ideas were ridiculous, but whatever I suggested was what we did.
I was older, cleverer, and more daring
than my two sisters.

I went through the rules like I medaled in the Olympics.
They believed anything.
With my confidence and enthusiasm, I instantly
Became the charismatic leader of all things mischievous.

All systems were in check when we reached the top of
Sapphire Court. Wiping red bangs from my eyes
With my shoulder, I held the frame as my sisters gingerly piled in.
Every muscle tightened, and knuckles turned white from
Death grips. Building suspense, I rocked the cart
Back and forth, counting down,
As the back panel jiggled in place.

Hopping over the panel, I scraped my thigh; chipped, red paint
tattooed the adventure. I could just make out Sarah’s pudgy,
scraped-up hands clutching the black handle over
Emily’s shoulder; memories embedded by those splinters.

Thin, black wheels took sharp turns, lifting one side
Off the ground; we rocked. A sudden increase in velocity sent
Emily’s dark ringlets into my face, tickling my nose
And sticking to my lips. Rocks dropped in my stomach,
Emily’s voice pierced the air rushing past us: “We’re tipping!”

Thump. Thump…thud. The wagon toppled, side wheels
Still slowly turning. The tree lawn felt prickly; bruises
started to form, but I paid no attention—I think they build
character; Dr. Carruozzo calls them “summer legs.”

“Let’s do it again, this time with helmets.”
I smiled—my sisters exhausted—for I knew our summers
Would forever belong to the Red Flyer.