Up in a tree
Away from the others
That’s where you’d find me
Hiding from brothers.
Just a skinny little girl
Of five or six
Getting away from the world
And the neighbor kid’s tricks.
“You’ll break your arm!”
My mom would cry.
“Only if I fall!”
Was my confident reply.
Favorite of all was the little plum tree
That shaded the play yard
For my sister and me.
In the spring the blossoms would cover the branches
I’d climb even higher, taking my chances
Up to where the limbs were small
I’d shake them violently
And the petals would fall
Raining down flowers
I’d squeal “Here it comes!”
My mother would sigh
“We’ll never have plums.”
It was just a little whisper, taken by surprise
A sleepy, easy morning, with dreams still in your eyes.
What I heard was a peaceful, breathless kind of “Hi”
Stretching under blankets, as you let the day go by.
Then our conversation – cut short by company,
Turned to a lovely moment, where neither of us could be.
But in my imagination, it all became quite clear
Despite the miles between us, each phone call brings us near.
And in that one small word, without giving any warning,
My soul was called back home on that easy Sunday morning.
And, as each tomorrow slowly whittles away today
I’m comforted by that word that now sounds so far away.
Like a lyric in my mind that lingers on all day
I stop and have to wonder
What else is there to say?