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Poem

We were raised in a large city
Accessed by, car, taxi, or bus
Sidewalks went to who knows where
But the back yard was country to us

Fenced in but hardly containing
Three very large trees we could climb
Half grass, half dirt, where we could run
Our playground for most of the time!

We had fun, my brother and I
And neighbor kids too, there would be
One thing, that we would discover
Was a post leaned against a tree

Where'd it come from, why was it there?
Could we move it if we so deemed?
Did the tree hold it or it the tree?
Could it be heavy as it seemed?

We had fun climbing that old post
Then we'd slide back down on our feet
But it came to a crashing halt
When I tried to slide on my seat!

Attacked by a hook shaped splinter, 
My spanking region, it abused
We had to wake up my mother,
She worked nights and was not amused!

Face down on the doctors table
His scalpel, the Doc would apply
And every time he made a cut
Brought a tear to my brothers eye!

Just a memory from the past
A lesson to think first was had
At least though, since that incident,
A spanking did not seem as bad!

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