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.”