LonelinessA Poem by Pester D. Finches
Rain drops, hot summer days spent in the woods,
Not a care in the world, not a worry in the brain,
When the birds sang their sweet melodies overhead,
And friends came running to play kickball or pirates
Late in the evening, the sun a fleeting memory, the ghost
That haunted the woods behind Mrs. J’s house
Where we built our fortress in the ancient trees,
Stocking crabapples and water balloons, to throw at kids.
This was our woods, our tree house, till one day Alex,
Mrs. J’s boy, fell off the ladder and hit his head, hard,
The developer came that day to speak to Mrs. J
About selling the haunted woods behind her house,
Our forest, our tree house, Privet Property, Do Not Trespass.
Our last night in the woods we set fire to the tree house,
And watched and cried as the burning timber fell around us,
The heat, the smell of fire, ash, charcoal, burning gasoline,
The burnt out car with Mrs. J’s body inside, whispers
From our parents, gathering pieces of story like mice
Gather pieces of cloth, to bring together and weave a story.
My first love sits across from me; we sip our drinks and wait,
Other friends who are more important than me, and when
She leaves, I sit and sip and wait a while and think of nothing.
The old dead tree behind the house that once belonged to Mrs. J
Behind which I had my first kiss, and had my heart broken,
That’s where I hid my childhood, because when you die,
Your spirit goes to the place it was happiest, and there you stay.
Last summer, Alex and I went to see the old tree house,
Burnt by the ghouls of children on a long forgotten night,
The place still smelled of firewood, and we sat down on the ash,
And embraced each other and cried and I remembered
And for a moment, I was lost to time.
© 2010 Pester D. Finches
Shelved in 1 LibraryAdded on June 22, 2010
Last Updated on June 22, 2010
Pester D. Finches
the middle of No-Where, NY
Abouthi, my name is Pester, some of you may know me as j.j. or what you will, but you can call my Danny (my middle name). i like Danny better them Pester, dont you? more..