Bliss
In the shade of wild trees
grew muscadine vines,
and in our Tarzan youth
we would swing out
on them from the top
of cliffs over the creek
sixty feet below and we
did notfall down,
but yodeled our joy.
We sat cross-legged
in the tree house,
wide eyed with wonder,
and ruled the world.
The old people
leaned out of their chairs,
and fanned themselves
in the summer heat;
they spoke with hushed tones,
talked of the falling darkness, and
knew it was a long way down.
They left us alone.
Copyright
Vol Lindsey
4/2/2006
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