A Thousand Worlds

Rows of white pines
Tall and straight
Hand planted
Three generations ago

A thousand adventures
Were under taken in these woods

Battles were fought
Bikes raced
Forts built

It was our shortcut to town

Our escape from the world

We carved our names into a tree

I tried to take my boys to this
Childhood playground
But the way was blocked by blow downs

Our names
Grown over