The Treehouse in
General
To every man
His treehouse,
A green splice in the humping years,
Spartan with narrow cot
And prickly door.
To every man
His twilight flash
Of luminous recall
of tiptoe years
in leaf-stung flight;
of days of squirm and bite
that waved antennas through the grass;
of nights
when every moving thing
was girlshaped,
expectantly turning.
To every man
His house below
And his house above—
With perilous stairs
Between.
By James A. Emanuel
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Poetic People is a service mark of Broken Entity Media.