Garage Roof

The name of the game was Brave
and its one-story plunge
aimed for a pile of sand below.

On the grit, tennies crunched,
and mindfully leapt
across smears of gummy tar.

In its separate atmosphere
a wind billowed even
on the stickiest summer day.

That flat flight deck of roof
sped a running start
for our courageous launch.

Urged on by a chanting chorus
of pitiless boys that
mocked the hesitant airborne.

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