I used to climb trees
love means something different from such a perspective
it waited there for a girl too young to know the world  too old to stop what’s become
not for want of effort  the mother tried  I’ll give her that
boy crazy  nothing will come of you  who says such things
lost to dementia she may regret  but we’ll never know
she’ll never know
the shadowed little figure giddily shouting down joys  thought invisible
the ghost of childhood sings  God bless
even now when nothing remains  but the waiting time
before  inevitable branched reach  this arm over an abyss
do we stand to repeat
or repent
only we can choose