Miss Hunter's Tree
branches and leaves catch ultra violet rays
you can almost taste the cool summer shade
little hands and feet are there most of the day
marbles, jacks, and double-Dutch are played
suburbia served from the tray of life
beneath Miss Hunter’s tree
on the highest branch between the leaves
a fortress of twigs house chicks who plead
to their mother for the board they so need
to grow, survive, and one day leave the nest
a budding ethologist adjusts their shutter speed
beneath Miss Hunter’s tree
lovers descend upon this tranquil site
anticipation declares their hearts were right
they begin to coddle through the din of night
carved initials on the trunk reveals their plight
they share a kiss and a bit of moonlight bloom
beneath Miss Hunter’s tree
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2017
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