words by JESSICA MILLIKAN @jessicouver photographs by @msultraviolet
When I was a teenager, my parents went out of town, I had a party and climbed the branches as high as I could go And I got stuck up there
From my perch I saw my friends below Laughing and talking with ease: The lights, my house, my past, my present, my future And I laughed under the stars This was never for me The points of light above reflected the Constellations of my life
Now it’s dark outside and the tree is smaller than I remembered Its graceful branches gnarled by time Or is my memory smoothing the details?
I walk down the backstairs while my Mom and Dad snore I find a foothold and I push upward And I keep pushing upward
From
my
vantage
point
the
dark
gives
way
to
familiar shapes My
Dad’s
carefully
tended
garden,
the
kiwi
plants that never bore fruit, The fence my Dad would pay me to paint when I was unemployed, The fire pit where my friends and I would have back to school wiener roasts, My memories paint a picture flickering around the backyard Like
a
zoetrope
spinning
around
producing
a
haphazard motion picture
The
“For
Sale”
sign
now
hammered
into
lawn Could very well be a steak through my heart And I still refuse to climb down
Even as I live in Paris And winter slowly warms into spring The trees bud into flowers Mesmerising The cherry tree still holds me
the