the cherry tree

we used to climb

the black

cherry tree like monkeys

and eat our

fill

until our stomachs bulged

with the candy

sweet

fruit,

ripe and full.

we scattered and slid down

the branches

and trunk

when we saw the headlights

coming up the street.

the horn blaring

at our silhouettes

disappearing

like shadows

up the street.

the next summer,

like all good things

of youth,

inevitably, it too

was gone.