10-line poetry

Leaving the Nest

Next to our garage, the perfect tree for climbing.
Every year brought new heights and new limbs.
I was an adventurer, a philosopher, a tom-boy.
I'd pack girl scout tins with sustenance of
ruffled potato chips for extended stays.

That tree cradled my mind, body, an soul; never
betraying my secrets, though I am sure I heard
the leaves giggle.

My tree is long gone, as well as my powers to be someone else,
somewhere else.