''Let The Cat Die''
'Higher, higher, swing me higher, Dad-o!
I can almost touch those leaves with my big toe...
I did it! I touched them! Now we can let the cat die, Dad-o.'
Being in cahoots with my best buddy
Stealing apple-tarts with my crony
Plotting with my hide-and-seek comrade
Gleaning encouragement from my biggest fan
Mine was a memorable childhood
That was a mighty tall order
Touching those top leaves was high priority
He was a mighty tall grandpa at six-three, Dad-o
With arms and love strong enough to push me
High as I cared to go
His white hair blew in the breeze
His white teeth smiled
My white knuckles held tightly the rope swing
He would have never 'let the cat die'
That only meant he wouldn't push any longer
And I could fall backward when I got brave enough...
Right back into his big strong hugging arms
Barbara Attaway's Other Poems
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