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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1007205
Memories of childhood tree climbing..
Tuesday Afternoon

She sat by the window, staring out of it.
The large oak tree out front seemed out of place
in the front yard. He had wanted to cut it down,
but she wouldn’t let him.
Because when she looked at the tree, she
was twelve again...

She was small for her age, and rather tomboyish.
Her dolls would get neglected, because
she’d be in one of the neighborhood trees.
Some of the other kids looked up to her, literally,
because she’d always climbed the highest.
That took real courage.

Her mother thought she was dumb for climbing trees,
and made sure she knew how she felt.
But that had the opposite effect that her mother wanted.
She’d try to climb higher.

Her father didn’t care much about her tree climbing,
until one day she slipped, and fell.
Her arm was broken in two spots.

She wished to continue to climb trees,
but her father’s belt thought otherwise.
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