Poems and Thoughts by Frank Maurer
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.
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