PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You have put that so accurately and so poignantly that my words fail in the face of this magnificent poem.  I did not have a tree-house, but my father and grandfather built for me (then a pre-schooler) a small structure, shaped like a storage shed but with a window on each of two of its four sides.  I kept my collection of the Aurora company's plastic models of the Universal Monsters in there, along with the latest copy of Eerie Magazine, and the antique roll-top desk, childsize, that had been my father's when he was my age, and which he had given me.  And the imaginary futures my friends and I discussed, in there, were spectacular; but I was too immature to realize what your poem has stated to elegantly---that nothing we imagined would be any better than that.  Decades later, when my last parent (mother) passed, and I sold the property, I compelled the buyer to transport, at his expense, that small building, and it now sits, on concrete cinder blocks as it did before, in my backyard.