The Tree :


Was recently reminded of my youth .
The spent days of my youth ,
Lackadaisical , if one might ask .
Remembering the days of summer .
Lazy days spent on the family farm .
 
It was purely of natural construction ,
This Big Ole Tree .
No-one knew how long it had grown there .
Maybe for an eternity .
This family seemed supported ,
by this Big Ole Willow Tree .

Its appendages reaching downward ,
Some of them breaching the ground .
Its thin branches whistling in the wind ,
making this effectual sound .
I would imagine explosions ,
the end of the world all around  .
I just build me a lil fortress
in the tree and not make a sound .
Me and my cousin would fashion weapons
make them all of wood .
Run around like "bedlamites"
my crazy uncle would scream ,
he was often drunk and misunderstood .
He was once an intellectual ,
but now a fucked up Vietnam Vet .
He said he had to come home ,
to heal by the tree
the soul he had spent .
Somewhere in the south of Laos ,
the Viang Chang province .
They killed women and children ,
a real horror show ,  he repents
He shared with us the chronicles ,
of a day spent running a muck .
As he pulled free the last bit of cork-wood ,
from the barrels bunghole where it was stuck .
It was the first place my grandfather came ,
when he came home from W W II
It's a shame the tree is gone now ,
with it the family too ....

RIP Great Uncle Tree !!!!!