Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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The Connecting Limb. After many decades I returned to my natal town. I walked here and there to see what had changed. My original house was a certain destination. Two houses to the south on Lake Avenue, Was a gently lower sloped area behind the old gray Daugherty home, Where we climbed trees--mostly maples--Acer saccharu I sought out one tree through which we often climbed, To see if the arboreal aberration of my youth still existed. I looked and looked upwards, but did not see the object of my visual seeking. It was a limb with a comfortable circumference From which we hung, marvelling simultaneously: This particular limb was connected on two ends, Bridging itself between two trucks! What anonymous growth act caused this strange structure? Two trunks bound by a contiguous limb? The fascination was more than a passing thought. All us boys continually enjoyed Touching that strange limb, just for a moment. Frank Maurer 4 November 2021.