Hour 20: The Treehouse

I remember it being huge

With a sloping roof

And enough space for ten people

Maybe more


Five feet off the ground

Twice if you climbed onto the roof

(An act of bravery seldom achieved)

The moss was slippery

So one must hang on branches


The walls were colored with chalk

And then with permanent marker

Names written

Jokes recorded

Pictures drawn


When we left

We wrote a letter

To take care of the treehouse

And visit it frequently

So it’s never alone


One day it will rot away

We all do, after a while

But with me

It was perfect and sturdy

Welcoming and warm


A bookend to my childhood

I live in a memory

Of brushing away the leaves

On the first day of sun

And sitting on the planks

And listening to the wind in the leaves

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