BLISS

In the shade of wild trees

grew muscadine vines,

and in our Tarzan youth

we would swing out

on them from the top of

cliffs over the creek

sixty feet below and

we did not fall down,

but yodeled our joy.

We sat cross-legged

in the tree house,

wide eyed with wonder,

and ruled the world.

The old people leaned out

of their chairs and fanned

themselves in the summer

heat; they spoke with hushed

tones, talked of the falling

darkness, and knew

it was a long way down.

They left us alone.

Copyright

Vol Lindsey

4/2/2006