If I Lived In A Tree

Someone might say to me

"Get down from there! People will stare!
You're not a bird, that sings his every word;
You're a kid, you're a boy ~ being simply absurd!"

So, I'd consider a moment, the weight of thier thought,

Then I'd toss it aside, counting it as nought.

A bird is so free, and a tree a lovely place to be . . .

Why leave it to him to build a nest in the rim

Of a narled branch nook

When I can climb and enjoy

The shade from the sun while I read a book,

Or scout out the land

Seeing far and wide

People like ants

And the color of thier pants

From

My hideaway

High in a tree.