Camphor Tree

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Written to Speak

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Out the back door of our childhood home grew a growing Camphor tree
The sunshine crawled through the cracks in the bright green leaves
Space created by the Southern breeze
Below it's wide canopy fell little black berries
But we were told to keep them out of our mouths

Like naughty words and desert before dinner
To my young eyes the branches swayed like the fingers of giants
Pointing east and west
And I did my best to climb their arms with my little limbs
Pulling myself higher and higher before I was told
To come on down

And no matter how many times i close these eyes 
I can't get back to the way it used to be
When I was 8 and you were 9
And I'm still trying to close my eyes to get back to the way it used to be
To when i'd walk out the back door 
And find myself beneath the canopy of the camphor tree

Now that I'm back inside I've come to realize
I was never prepared to say goodbye
To my childhood or that camphor tree
And i'm still trying to bring myself alive to climb high
To hear my mom call me back inside
And hear those three words
Come on down

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