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TWO OLD SWINGERS

As Robert rode down his birch trees
far in his northern Yankee land
climbing, then bending them with ease
their stance no longer straight and bland

Upon a time and place so far away
I have done so, too, with pine saplings
on a hot and sunny summer day
beneath shade enhanced by sol's dapplings

Sometimes not riding them to ground
just far enough to reach another
thus propelling self all around
from one pine to its nearest brother

Down here the soil? Red not black
as I expect it was for him
I often think of going back
before the path becomes too dim

Might we two old swingers meet some day?
I'd like to think we may, perhaps
in a place I hope to one day stay
and shake hands still sticky from trees' saps

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Structured: Western
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You may be old, but Frost wasn't when he wrote his apple picking poem, it is considered one of his early works .He was thin and had black hair. We do so often only imagine him as that old man at the Kennedy Inauguration. Like Whitman, we never see him young, always as that fully bearded white haired man. So the only discrepancy I see is you are referring to him as an old man on the tree and the subject of the poem.
But it is nice to see a southern boy offer his hand in friendship to a yankee.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

I expect Frost was pretty old when he died and I hope to be a bit older when I finally leave ya'll alone lol. So we'll both be old when we meet and compare our tree swinging. BTW his tree swinging poem is"birches" not apple picking time. And I don't really care if you are a yank or a rebel as long as you are a good person. Heck my brother even Married a yank. We had a lot of fun with his city slicker bride...told her picking grits required tweezers and the fields with long straight rows were spaghetti farms lol....I appreciate your visit and thoughts on old poets

author comment

written 1916, and early work, but somehow said apple picking. That is happening more often to me. Must be all the drugs I did in the 60's.
I only mentioned yankee because you put it in the poem for a reason, there were a lot of other words you could have used. and yankee means what it means in our culture, a cultural divide. As a reader, my mind has to see the word and respond in kind, as so make the associations that you who are not a yankee are reaching out for fellowship through poetry. a good thing!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

like us can be forgiven a mind slip in poem titles I guess lol. You know it's quite a thing that we live in a country where we still remember a bloody war between states but call each other yanks and rebels in jest instead of hatred.

author comment

I get such a longing to scramble up & through the trees as I did as a young-un. For me it was often gum trees, but there were pines around too & your poem took me there in a wonderful reverie, even that sense of rocking til you reach the next tree to scamper onto... As poetry should, we are transported by the imagery you provoke.

Cheers
Anni

My dear friend always told me "Water the seeds of joy first"

I am pleased to have a scribble of mine transport you back to younger days. I often wonder if any kids growing up now do any of the stuff I did while growing up or whether they do much of anything not connected to electronics.

author comment

Still, if you live surrounded by forest as I do, there are lots of kids who still do. Mine did on & off, but I must say, I think I would be terrified to find out my son did even a fraction of the dangerous things I did quite regularly & sadly I think most of us these days parent with far more oversight & restriction than you or I probably had.

But yes, I can almost smell the pine sap reading your poem, lovely.

Cheers
Anni

My dear friend always told me "Water the seeds of joy first"

cutting muscadine vines which went high into trees then swinging on them across gullies often over 40 feet deep. Where's the danger in that ? LOL

author comment

to both you and Stan; In my day, our parents didn't worry much about sexual predators and killers. They were few and far between. We spent many hours playing in the woods and doing things that if our mothers knew, they would have had heart attacks! Alas, I fear that the woods are far fewer than they used to be and the danger from people so much more. There are fewer areas to play in and Stan is right, the advent of electronics provide most of the thrill these days. The woods that I used to play in rang with screams of delight at feats of bravery and the thrill of flag tag and first kisses. Those woods are silent now, except for the chatter of squirrels and chirps of birds. I know that there are places in this world where children play without electronics and still run and play with imagination. I hope that it is forever so. ~ Gee.
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Back in those days sexual predators were often "taken care of" in the same wood they stalked and their brethren Knew what price they'd pay and quickly. Now they get wrist slaps. Oh well, they'd get much more from Me if they mess with my young ones. I'd call the coroner at best or likely dump them in one of the many dry wells I know about.....rant over. I appreciate your visit and, yeah I suspect my parents would not have been happy with some of our ideas of play lol

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