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The Treehouse

Perched atop the old sycamore
it's lasted -- tasted Midwest wet,
bet on passing twisters,
glowed snow white on shivery nights.

Jimmy falls through make-believe space.

Home to innocent sparrows,
beggar birds, tweeting fun
and freedom. Some days were more
feathery, almost flighty.

Jimmy falls through make-believe space.

Pirate's schooner, train, air-
plane--planked, chugged with
trusty nails, propped with rusty
wings, sails skulled and crossed.

Jimmy falls through make-believe space.

One day it turned dark,
dangerous, waiting to be
the haunted house, listening
for dares, laughs, dives.

Jimmy fell through make-believe space.

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