Thin branches stick out raggedly like needles from cloth,
Surrounding thicker branches,
Easily supporting our tiny sixth grade bodies,
and our small quiet conversations.
I used to glance silently around,
At the enclosure of twigs and leaves.
That tree had been our escape for years,
Sheltering us from the stresses of life.
My grandma’s backyard was always one of my favorite places.
It was so easy to climb up,
My small hands on the rough bark,
And get lost in the world around me for hours at a time.
Remember how you used to dare me to go higher?
You’d laugh at me for being scared.
But that’s okay, I didn’t mind.
I liked to spend time with you,
Sitting high up in the air,
Feeling like all my troubles were left on the ground.
But things change, that’s just how life goes.
I stopped spending as much time at dad’s,
You started leaving to spend time with your friends,
And eventually, Grandma passed.
Neither of us has been there in months.
Neither of us has climbed that sacred tree in years.
And now that it's gone, I want to go back.
Back to the scattered leaves,
Back to the sore limbs from lounging carelessly,
Back to the simplicity of it all.
But I know I can’t bring back Grandma,
Or the days we’d waste in the tangled branches.
But it’s okay,
Because one thing I do still have is you.