Tug of War

A middle school playground, fields
stretching far out into the grass
splatter of colorful shirts, mismatched
shorts, the little heads bobbing blonde,
brown and red, playing, tugging

at a rope found lost in the grass' dew
coiled and snaked, a rattlesnake's tough
skin. The rainbow scatters, left and right,
end to end of the rope. Soft hands
grasp the roughened twine, ready, set

go as they pull and tug. Some fall, knees
scrapped, hands rip, squeaky sneakers slip
in the mud they dig. The rope goes left,
the rope goes right, an endless war
as they drop one by one, their guards

down. One side finally breaks, a bob
of blonde has fallen. The right side wins.