A memory - written today

That's just the smell
of rotting wood
and a memory
from childhood
we used to run
out to the creek
catching tadpoles
in a mystery world
it was magical and beautiful
it was the only place
that wanted me

I wanted to live there
in the boughs of a tree
that held me firmly
in its embrace
never pushing me away
I nailed 3 boards
to a branch
before abandoning my plan
my 8-year-old hands
didn't yet have the skill
to construct a home from scratch
and when I went out
to the creek to play
those crooked boards
stared down at me
mocking me
in my inability
to construct my own
reality