Bury Your Fucking Secrets

I stood in front of the twisted plant.
It seemed smaller, somehow. Different.
The dry scent of brown bark was faint in the breeze.
I closed my eyes.
My fingers found their way to the rough surface, sliding along the edges and cracks,
 searching for a familiar face.
I remembered bright summers shaded
By sweet-smelling leaves, glowing.
I remembered climbing
Limb over limb
To the highest of branches, shaking.
I remembered…
I remembered.

I did not remember getting in the tree
But I found myself balancing, unwedging my sneaker where it once fit.
I found a branch shaped like me, and sat.
We were so warm…

We lounged, unafraid, slobbering our cones of ice cream.
Our little heads peeked through the foliage where birds kept their homes.
I remembered raising my arm and groping over my head for a sturdy branch,
And standing up.
We felt so big in our shoes.