Greg Easley Poet I do not know?

The Day I Fought Levi

In the sixth grade
Levi shoved me down
and insulted my mother
by the code of those days
a fight was assured

We met after school
to fight in the park
each brought friends
to stand in our corners
and offer advice

As this was my first
I readily listened
while they suggested
where to punch Levi
and when

We circled one another
Levi called me names
and dared me to hit him
chuckling that he felt guilty
to be fighting with a girl

I let my fists go
wanting them to kill
his blood felt warm
almost scalding
between my knuckles

He punched so wildly
with a wolf-like snarl
I was shocked at the pain
stinging nerves beneath layers
of the will to endure

Still shuffling in circles
vying to take damage
and return it
something peculiar arrived
moving in me

As I struck at Levi
teeth buckling in blows
I began to feel sorry
my hate for him slipped
and was gone

Along with every jab
came silent apologies
Levi did not look himself
so bloodied and swollen
he could have been my brother

At that I stepped back
admitting surrender
asking for a truce
but little Levi called me a coward
and turned to limp home

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