There are 10 people --
one rope.
The last event of the day
and the mothers have their cameras out.
The brick school is behind.
Miss Fisher's room
(and it's Miss. Fisher, you hear?
Mrs. Fisher is my mother)
has a window with a nice view
of the scene,
but no one's inside today
to watch out the windows.
Mrs. Groff, blue shorts
and tight tan calves, stands
by the orange cone.
It looks like a witches hat
but more erect,
more stolid,
more ...orange.
Maybe it doesn't look like a witch's hat after all.
They line up,
facing each other.
They lift the rope off the ground,
red hankies tied to its middle, marking the win.
The whistle is in her mouth.
Everyone knows what they want --
except for the rope.
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