On Climbing A Tree

On Climbing a Tree

Yesterday I was prevented from comitting a crime:
Climbing a tree
A security officer pre-empted
My unpremeditated act

The oak tree loomed sensuous
Its knotted, sinuous branch
Pointing erectly at the water
Frisky leaves gleaming in the wind

Despite nature’s powers I stood distracted
Dictating a text to a sad, ill friend
Until seeing the golf cart smashing through the vines
Arrowed towards me

I was admonished with stern warning
Not to mount that branch

Yet I have not climbed a tree in sixty years
My snowy locks
No proof against criminal intent

The state art museum guardian must have realized
If I could leap above my head
Grab the branch, pull a quick reverse
I might accomplish this misdeed

I gave the officer the fullest truth
Had never imagined invading the tree
Scaling the summit to whoop in glory

The enforcer of the law retreated
Other malefactors must be lurking
Next to inviting boughs

In a state where kids can’t find banned books
Cannot speak of sex
Shall not say the word slavery
Upsetting those recalling a glorious past

Hurrying off to a shaded glen
Continuing my message to a lonely, sick friend
I recognized my luck

I had been prevented from
Willfully caressing state property
An unconscious sexual offense

For our great state’s leader
Knows thoughts are crimes