The ceremonial main beam
went up in spring,
an oak two by six
so heavy it took
us all together with our mother
to hold it up while I bent nails
against its obstinate solidity.
The pyramids
must have been easier to build.
Boards were brought
from every scrap pile
on the place and we would
make a production with
the addition of each one
and raise them with a block
and tackle as if we were
dedicating some monument
to time.
The construction of the tree house
took till summer,
the landscaping went on till fall
in Shady Valley
and there was a permanent position
for someone willing to work,
maintenance of the kitty cat cemetery,
also the resting place of rabbits, dogs
and a two headed turtle.
And there was a bridge to be built;
there is always a bridge to be built.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ceremonial beam builds the pyramid of expressive love to maintain life and truth. Very interesting and amazing sharing...10
Just a childhood memory. Thanks for the kind comment.