Caroling (from a eucalyptus tree)

 
Each spring as a child  
when family parties  
of holiday celebrations  
were, by then  
echoes in my head  
 
I'd go a-caroling  
 
while playing in the  
fresh mud of the garden,  
toes wriggling deep  
alongside the sow bugs  
that tilled the earth  
 
tomboy that I was,  
still in my Sunday best,  
my voice would rise up  
to the birds perched  
on the backyard fence    
   
as I'd go a-caroling  
   
taking in the dappled sun  
strained through the  
branches of a eucalyptus  
that had a tree house    
where you could find me    
   
a-caroling so free and easy    
in that tree all breezy  
 
in the crow's nest swaying  
watching for pirates;  
"Avast!" I'd call out, saying  
to the cap'n far below  
"Mom's calling us to lunch!"  
 
and off we'd go a-caroling  
just as fast as we could  
 
back to my childhood where    
scraped knees were kissed  
and summers were bliss,  
and all was safe for a while
within my mother's smile 


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