'Neath that Oak Tree

I sit by still—
In memory
At a playhouse built for me

I stare blankly—
In my mind
At all the things left behind

I sleep tenderly—
In my head
Upstairs on a bed

I catch daddy long legs—
In thought
Remembering all those caught

I play there—
In spirit
At the kitchen where I sit

I lie by still—
In memory
At the playhouse ‘neath that oak tree


April 9, 2012