I remember the tree and on that limb
how comfortable it was to sleep in
1999
with the sun beating down
to the tree top and the tree top turning blow
into a trickle of warm leave greened droplets
all over my clothes and skin.
Even the ants took cat naps
between scaling my brow
wriggling between my toes
and going wherever it was they were supposed to go
with their little triangles and trapezoids of leaf.
Still struck, along the sidewalk walks, these days,
looking at the rise of hills
on each side of the river,
by the sand man. Can I cross my legs
and sit down for a while?
Better yet, if you don't mind,
the tree inside your front yard is truly a thing of beauty
and I left my hammock at home.
Wake me at sundown.
I think, today, I am not going to win the pillow fight.
