We sneak to the backyard
tiptoeing into woods
like spies. As neighbors’
voices swim in the air.
We can't let our light
split the darkness. Stumbling
through shadowy woods,
we scramble to the fence
so it can see us to the edge.
Angry brambles sting
bare legs as I shove them away.


We slide to the edge
of the fence and snoop
around the corner.
Checking the coast is clear
we slide to the nearest tree.
Sneaking in shadows
we run across to the yard
of the flag, the fence scraping
my legs as I jump.


We spread out, searching
for the glowing orange cone.
Tense feeling in the air
as we search, just waiting
for the other team to spot us.
Suddenly, I see it:
the orange glow
of the cone. Hidden next
to the shed. We snatch
the flag, and race to the fence.


We heave ourselves over
the fence, and sprint,
invisible in the shadows
of the neighbors yard.
Gasping for air as we
appear in the road, holding
a glowing orange cone.