A story about me
When I was young there was a great big tall tree in our backyard, much taller than our house. I used to climb right to the top and sit in a fork of the branches there. It was a difficult climb for me, especially reaching the first branch which was far above my head. It scared me but I’d climb up anyway. The tree would sway on the way up and the branches were thin. When I reached the top I’d sit there, with the tree swaying back and forth and I’d just let all the words run through my head and away into the sky. If it was daylight I’d search for shapes in the clouds. If it was dark I’d just stare at the stars until they blurred and coloured. I miss that tree and it’s long gone but last night I found those stars again.