The Tree House
J
Juan Olivarez
0
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Just a little tree house,
Rope ladder trailing down.
Sitting in the oak tree,
Twenty feet off the ground.
Just some old boards nailed together,
On the branches way up high.
Through all kinds of Texas weather,
Underneath the Lonestar sky.
Spending the night up in the tree,
On some old wooden boards,
Sleeping rather peacefully,
Amidst the mosquito hordes.
Sounds in the night,
Sometimes kept us awake.
Our eyes filled with fright,
As we felt the tree shake.
It's still up there, high in the tree,
Falling apart now nail, by nail.
Getting ready to crumble, down,
In a south Texas gale.
10/14/10 Alton Texas
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