Dusty milk spots remain
on the old barn floor
where we used to play tag as kids.
They were the safe zones,
like baseball bases,
where one could not be tagged.
Problem was they were oft below
the very cows that made them,
necessitating a baseball-like slide,
feet first, the old-fashioned way,
in order to reach them.
And, in doing so, one had to avoid,
by all means, getting "udder-faced."
To get tagged and "faced"
was a disgrace that might be
talked about for weeks.