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Shimmying Up Trees
I'd trek through the woods as a boy,
for Nature was my source of joy.
And She taught me things I didn't know,
many forgotten years ago.
I saw how the land would transform,
blanketed by a Winter storm.
And I'd build forts in drifts of snow,
many forgotten years ago.
Shimmying up trees scraped my knees,
yet I would climb the thinnest trees.
And ride their sway when winds would blow,
many forgotten years ago.
I never thought of growing old;
for there was so much to behold.
Time's sped up, though it once ran slow,
many forgotten years ago.
Copyright ©
Emile Pinet
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