Treehouse- Day 58 of the steemitschool 100 day writing challenge by @d-pend
The treehouse looks the same - but it isn’t.
I sit, feet dangling, taking in the view. It looks the same -but it isn’t.
The majestic treetops, dancing in the breeze invoke sadness.
This was our home, the fortress of misfits,
with its worn cushions and fruit crate table.
Our books are here, our collection of shiny things, but I feel the cold creeping in.
It all looks the same- but it isn’t.
Something broken just below the surface is reaching into the core.
It is strangling laughter before it reaches our eyes.
We are here, but our thoughts have already left the building.
We go through the motions,
stand ins in a play that has turned mouldy in its decomposition.
We have gathered here together- to commemorate loss.
We bury the past in mason jars.
The same rituals, the same inside jokes now counterfeit approximations.
We shout goodbyes, flee in every direction.
We shall not come again …
(Image credit Dave Renike and a portrait of the fair jubilee made by myself turned into this here universal truth meme)
art courtesy of @PegasusPhysics
👍😎
This reminds me of the wonderful days spent with my brothers in childhood. My second brother is gone and this poem brought back so many memories.
we used cushions, piled it and played as if we were on an elephant
I am so sorry about your brother :( but I love the elephant part :)
Thanks dear. I wish he had been around