Sophie Rhianne

Childhood Playmates

Early sunday mornings we played
cops and robbers
cowboys and indians
knights and barbarians
tarzan and the apes
and sometimes we didn’t give our games a name.
In year three we did medieval studies at school
spent hours building a toothpick trebuchet,
used to fling pebbles at passing cars.

One day
sprawled on the grass catching back breath
cold damp dew and misty air
nothing said
you jumped up and stamped down hard on my chest.
I don’t know why.
You almost cracked a rib. I ran crying to my mum and told her what you did.
We weren’t allowed to play anymore.
It was a long lazy summer,
I moved away that September,
never saw you again.