THE HOUSE AND THE TREE
A man walks down the street
wondering why on this date
he wants to visit old haunts
of when he was just a boy
He sees his old house
and wonders why it seems down
it wasn't like that the last time
he was in this part of town
Where has the time gone
he thinks as he enters
where now are the days
filled with an endless golden sun
Cobwebs lurk in deserted halls
where his mother once cleaned
now only silence rules these walls
where balls once bounced against
The old hidden passageways
between his room and his hideaways
are now open for all to see
and are carpeted in dust
He wonders if the walls could talk
what stories would they tell
how many tales could they remember
would they remember him
Somehow they forgot those days
of pleasure so long ago
now the roof seems to bleed
every time it rains or snows
He leaves by a broken window
like he used to as a teen
did his mother ever know
of his midnight journeys
He walks in the yard
once kept so neat
with its forget-me-nots
but now forgotten only weeds remain
Here he once dug a whole
that went all the way to China
the ramps for toy trucks
were the only way to the surface
Now it is lost to him
even the memories are dim
now all he can see
is his old friend the tree
He built there the finest tree house
his palace in the skies
its ruins lay on the ground
he finds tears in his eyes
The tree's branches once held up in pride
like some proud guardian's arms
now are sadly drooping with
cracks racing down their sides
It's funny how time flows by
not caring who it sweeps off
but once in a while time stops
to let people remember
It's funny how people are
memories are not often valued
until it is too late
FOR AS THE MAN TURNS AWAY
The tree crashes to the ground
and the house simply collapses
the man's past is now gone
and he knows that he is next
PAUL VERNON DEFFENDALL
DECEMBER 30, 1984
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