Under the Trees

Ime Atakpa

We played under the trees
Lightly touched by the breeze
On those lost summer days
With a sky like vast seas

We danced 'round the bed
Where the flowers were bred
She danced down the street
That I dared not to tread

Standing under the shade
Of a bed freshly made
By our neighbor, deranged
She touched on a blade

That sweet blade of grass
Hidden safe in the mass
Of its friends 'neath the tree
Was a joy come to pass

For our neighbor emerged,
His rage surely surged
By a child uprooting his lawn
Our smiles were both purged

From his gaze, she broke free,
Getting up from her knee
And falling her foot in the street
Staring fearfully at me

It sped quick on the turn
Giving a lesson to learn
To girls reckless in play
With hours to burn

We dance not under the tree
It's just lonely me
Save the ash from the urn
'neath our green hickory

Published by Ime Atakpa

Ime is a freelance writer with an interest in film and technology and a firm passion for the literary arts. In his free time, he enjoys contemplating on new ideas in both psychology and morality and putting...  View profile

6 Comments

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  • Ji Park8/28/2011

    Tree is an example of repository of memories of youth...

  • Adam Justice7/15/2011

    Such a sad poem.

  • Lynn Mason7/11/2011

    this is fantastic! You are an excellent writer.

  • Sue Earhart7/10/2011

    this gives me the chills! my gosh its so good!

  • Emarie Lariosa7/9/2011

    It felt so good, if you are there under the tree.

  • Mary Duncanson7/6/2011

    I like it, keep writing!

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