Man #2...That's right.
Man #1...Nothing but bananas?
Man #2...Yep.
Man #1...Has she lost much weight?
Man #2....Nope. But you ought to see her climb a tree!
Among the 100's and 100's of changes we've seen over the years, one jumped out at me this morning after a restless night of strange dreams about that tree in my backyard on East 5th Street.
Kids don't climb trees anymore! I guess because there are no "Video Games" to play up there.
Anyway, back to that tree in my backyard.
It was a Chinaberry tree....and I spent at least half of my childhood in that tree.That's where I went when I was happy, or sad...or just needed to think things out. I suppose it was my "security blanket."
There have been times, as an adult, I've fantasized about problems that popped up that could easily be solved...if only I could climb that Chinaberry tree again and think them out.
If I was assured that the people who now own my old house on East 5th Street wouldn't call the police and report an insane 80 year old man sitting in a tree in their back yard......I'd be down there in a flash!
Ed.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
-Joyce Kilmer
One of only a handful of poem written by Joyce Kilmer. His primary occupation was a reporter for one of the New York papers.
He enlisted in the New York National Guard and was deployed to France with the 69th Infantry Regiment (the famous "Fighting 69th") in 1917. He was killed by a sniper's bullet at the Second Battle of the Marne in 1918 at the age of 31. He was married to Aline Murray, also an accomplished poet and author, with whom he had five children.
